


One for Sorrow

by Draconovich



Series: The Pulled Thread Saga [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Agent of Christmas Past, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Avengers Assemble Ikea, Biting, Bondage, Clint is a Sucker for Abuse, Did he call Tony SHORT?, Dr Doom is hard to take seriously, F/M, Game of Debts, Homonculus, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki shows Tony WHY his silver tongue is legendary, M/M, Magpie, Manipulative Nick Fury, Marathon Sex, Movie Spoilers, Night Nurse is scary, Non intended use of repulsors, Oral Worship, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Patent Stark Snark, Red Ring of small deaths, Rimming, SHIELD is Tony's blackmarket provider of snacks, Snark, Spanking, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark has a heart... it just wasn't happy with him, Tony Stark is Irony Man, Tony Stark: Cum Bucket, Unorthodox use of a Stark Phone, Window Sex, ball bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 143,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draconovich/pseuds/Draconovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now back from editing hell! The chapters are massively revised and easier to read. </p><p>Set in a continuation off of Iron Man III, Tony Stark found himself drawn into the domestic life, but that dream without Iron Man was killing him. With his Arc Reactor back, he needs to become the Avenger he once was once more, but he cannot do it alone.</p><p>Tony goes on a path of recovery, tearing down white picket fences and happy facades, fighting enemies who want his Arc Reactor as a trophy, unraveling the meaning behind a hollow victory, finds a magpie is a better companion than any unobtainable almost fiancee, frustrating Fury is a great sport, and he comes to realize Loki has a method to his madness.</p><p>Update: Chapter 12 (New) is up and ready for reading. 13 (new) is next to be posted soon. Many thanks to 1111, my most excellent Beta and editor!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One for Sorrow (Revised)

Like a falling star, the cylinder of scientific wonder fell, dormant of its ephemeral glow. The streaking object captured the light of the waning sun as it sailed through the air to land within the waters churning below the bedraggled ruins that sat atop a craggy rocky outcropping looming over the waters of Malibu, California.

This was the recent scar lingering on the scenic land from the vicious battle that began and ended within a matter of minutes. The Mandarin made his move, answering the challenge of Tony Stark, and nearly decimated everything he held dear, and nearly extinguished the vibrant light of his life.

I am Iron Man.

Those words echoed in his mind, even as a soft splash whispered the discarded end of what had tethered him to desperation and remorse. The wet _plunk_ disturbed the waves below the crumbled dusty remains of his bastion of pride and brilliance. A house could be rebuilt. A legacy… reinforced.

But as he turned away with the soft crunch of gravel and glittering stardust of glass beneath his sneakers, the inventor smiled with a calm satisfaction as he strode back to his car that sat sleek and patient for its master in the bedraggled remnants of a driveway. 

The house could be rebuilt. Bigger, better, more brilliant than before. Now that he had less, physically, he had more in theory.

Akin to a sacrificial offering to a goddess; a gift to a queen, he'd detonated and destroyed every last suit within his menagerie, from earliest to latest… they went up in a fanfare of dazzling glory that surrounded them in a wondrous fireworks display of beautiful destruction. 

The arc reactor was the fulcrum agent of chrysalid change: the modern artifact that shed him of the skin of the Merchant of Death to become Iron Man. That very device was removed as well as the shrapnel that threatened his heart on a daily basis.  Now, a plug filled the hollow space where the object of wonder resided, and a brilliant piece of prosthetic flesh made his chest look smooth and unmarred. His healing surgery erased away the very thing he had become and making him, once more, a mere man.

Gone was his armor, and lost was his shining light of scientific legacy.  What remained was the man that changed, challenged, survived, and sacrificed everything for what he believed he held most near and dear. 

Pepper. 

Now, instead of being the Hero, a member of the Avengers to fight the evils that plague the world, Tony is a mere civilian -aside from being the world renown 'Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist.' He sought, in all earnest, an honest man's life, and domestication… as far as he could promise to Pepper. True, he still had nightmares. 

They merely faded briefly after the recent villain incident: the Mandarin. He had his girlfriend added as a main feature within the nightmarish PTSD fueled illusions, so Tony had become better at removing himself from all potential triggers.

Instead of focusing on making Iron Man suits, Tony Stark shifted his brilliant gift of invention, advancements of technology (for a little profit, of course) to the domestic benefit all of mankind. Pepper at least seemed to have waned her constant motherly pecking and doting upon him to keep him out of trouble and  laxed in strong arming him into business matters and making event appearances. He must have been doing something right he surmised, and already, he was planning on taking the plunge, making that next step that he avoided like the plague over his entire lifetime. 

Pushing aside and burying guilt, fear, and a gnawing chilling uncertainty, he silently planned how to propose to Pepper.

Hell, he'd even crafted a masterpiece of a gorgeous ring, the diamond he himself had made settled within a Vibranium ring. And through magnification, within the heart of the diamond was a hint of glowing blue, a minute shard he'd taken from the eldritch ring within his arc reactor. He wanted to, literally, give her his heart. That's what a reborn man should do, right?

He just had to see her again, to try, again and make that plunge.    
  
He wasn't sure why, but since her curing of the Extremis, and his own shrapnel Sword of Damocles shards removed along with the last vestiges of Iron Man, she'd been insanely busy… and he hadn't seen her since that time, two weeks ago since he'd managed to engineer breakfast for her in his attempt to be 'Domesticated Tony' for her in a new found obsession.

To try to craft himself from who he was, to bury the Tony Stark tied with the truths of his experiences, he focused upon turning his life around for this one person. A goal, an objective to try to bury everything he'd become into a functioning machina under the label of Tony Stark where everything was fine. Just fine. And normal.    
  
No drinking, no parties, no fighting, no saving the world, and going from defender of justice and a technowizard of crafting engineering wonders and defense, he began to engineer handy nicknacks to beat eggs more smoothly and strain out egg shells. Or a digital device to measure produce and give data such as percentage of sweetness or level of ripeness. Maybe a digital measuring cup with the readout on the side, with the additional benefit of being able to adjust between the different measurement standards around the world.

Admittedly, his omelette was a little scary looking, and the toast was burnt. And there were seeds in the orange juice. Tony questioned his cooking skills, if it was bad enough to bring tears to her eyes as she raced to the bathroom that last breakfast, and he hadn't seen her since.

Oh, true, he apologized to her, promised to drop a call to Alton Brown for serious training, but she seemed to have been swept under a hurricane of work within her position of CEO, especially with the final touches in repairing the Stark Tower.

And so, he called Pepper as he drove from the crumbled remains of his past, a legacy he planned to keep buried and lost to the world. He pondered with a buoyant smile what manner of poetic greeting he could grant to the woman he wished to rebuild his whole entire world for and put 'old Tony' to rest.

"Tony, why on Earth did I get a call from Nick Fury telling me that you've resigned from the Avengers’ Initiative?" Came her voice over the device nestled in his ear as the wind roared over the convertible.  His grin faltered slightly. Well, now, nothing put a painful cut into his Disney-like perfect plans than the name of THAT guy.

"Mornin', Pep, I love you too." He paused before he remarked casually, as if explaining why he'd merely taken the trash out, like the thoughtful man he should be. "That? Well, I destroyed the suits. That's old Tony. New Tony is all about you, Baby, and making nonlethal omelets. I've worked out how to keep the shells out…"

A ragged sigh escaped over his earpiece, but the inventor was far too enwrapped in his pleasant illusion to notice the exhausted, almost pained tone to it. "I wanted you to be CURED of what was wounding you, Tony… I wanted you to stop jumping into danger without THINKING. I didn't want to lose you to recklessness or what's been giving you the PTSD. I didn't want for you to drop out of the Avengers. Steve, Clint… Natasha… especially Bruce… they've been like a group of brothers and a sister for you."

An irritating edge of disruption frayed at Tony's perfect little world as his brows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah, and why weren't they there when I needed them?" An old argument, but one he continued to cling to with the lingering remnants of the stubborn man he'd once been.

"When Bruce thought you were dead, he hulked so bad, it took everything in Steve and Fury's power to keep him out of trouble and off the grid, and Clint and Natasha were fighting those Extremis soldiers making strikes at the other end of the world. Thor had his own problems in Asgard, and no one knows how to communicate with him, yet. They COULDN'T know exactly what was going on. It happened too much, too fast. Bruce and SHIELD DID help me with my Extremis condition… you should be grateful, Tony. I know I am."

"Doesn't matter, anymore, I'm not playing with them. I'm devoting my whole life to you, Pepper. I love you, you know." He covered with a grandly glib grin, burying the topic along with the remnants of what made him a hero. "I have something really exciting I want to talk to you about. Life changing. Huge. I think we should build a new house, too, JUST for you and me. Y'know… maybe look like 1960s Suburbia. White picket fence. I give you a kiss on the cheek as you leave in the morning to go to work. Nuclear family with 2.5 kids, a dog. By then, I'll be good at cooking…"

"No."

Gravel skittered as the sports car swerved slightly, the trailer pulled behind it jogged dangerously as that one word jarred Tony violently from his pleasant  illusionary dream. What?

"Ah… if you're worried because of the omelette, I've gotten better."

"It's not about the breakfast." This brought a slightly thoughtful frown to Tony as he considered the conversation that was confusing him and leaving a gnawing unease in his chest.

"Oh, well, how about a cat instead of a dog?"

"Tony… I can't…"

"No kids? That's ok, I know you're totally busy…"

"No! Tony… this is getting ridiculous. Scary. This is precisely the reason I can't let you do any more public visits. You're… you're losing your edge, Tony. You're losing YOU. I really can't let you do this to yourself. How can you go from Iron Man to Susie Homemaker?"

"I am IRON man… I  press shirts for truth and justice." He glibly joked in a playful mask of nonchalance even as he felt his heart pounding erratically in his chest, stuttering and jittering within his rib cage like the engine of a badly abused Palomino. The tension surely must have been mounting, because he could feel a creeping encroaching ache in his arm that left deft fingers with prickling tingles. Frowning softly, he rubbed his shoulder and bicep as the road seemed to sway even more in it's swerving black ribbon amidst the tones of brown, beige and other assorted neutral colors of California.

"I can't continue this relationship with you, Tony. It's destroying you."

A warning beeping sound began to shrilly flit in it's staccato tone as those words echoed in his mind, JARVIS' cool polite tones murmured something, and yet he could not hear, not even Pepper's frantic worried words. Tony’s own breaths were loud and gasping as everything within his world danced erratically, sliding wildly, violently off kilter with a distant frictional squeal as he careened into a maddening vertigo where spots of color danced within his vision that couldn't seem to focus upon anything. Daylight seemed to flare too brightly, a brilliant solar glow that hazed out the scenery even as darkness began to bleed in at the edges of his vision.

Clutching his chest stricken with a piercing pain, he could only sit hanging awkwardly within his restraints as a dark figure landed before him: a silhouette unmistakable in it's regal bearing and the twin thin arched forms that rose like the horns of a demon before him. Time, precious and tormented, bled slowly as the being crouched upon his hood like a vulture that waited for it's unfortunate vulnerable meal. Gruesome patience to watch it’s prey twitch it's final move, to gasp it's final wheezing breath before swooping in to tear it apart.

"This? This is the MORTAL that challenged me? This WEAK sniveling thing had been an instrumental part of my defeat?" The smooth cultured voice bore a cool nonchalance as fingers of an oddly soothing chill touched his burning cheek as the mortal's head was raised so the once spirited brown eyes that had begun to turn glassy could meet a pair of viciously vibrant viridian green. The God of Chaos.

"I am frankly insulted to have been defeated by such a fragile creature. You mocked my strength, flaunted your mortal weakness and proved capable of compensating with greater advantages of your own crafting. But look at you now. Declawed, unmanned of your pride and a hollow shell of the 'Avenger' you once were. I would loath myself if one who defeated me would expire in such a pitifully futile manner. It would reflect badly upon me. After all…" Something wet and hard dropped unceremoniously into the dying man's lap before the figure stood tall once more. Flowing garments fluttered like Death's cloak in the balmy wind, an imposing silhouette backlit by blinding brightness. His sense of panic rose greatly as the darkness began to encroach from the edges of his vision like the very Void itself, swallowing everything slowly until all that remained were those eyes of glowing green that held him with a hypnotically reproachful gaze.

"…I have standards to maintain. And my pride."

When darkness engulfed Tony Stark he could only think one last thought. At least he could finally get some decent sleep.

 

~~~

 

Beeps, slow and rhythmic slowly disturbed the eternal darkness, the blanketing silence that encased Tony in a cocooning prison of nullified senses. Tony Stark pried his eyes open that had been gummed shut by dried mucus. He ached all over… and it wasn't a good ache. Not like after a victory with a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. This was a complaining rebellion of a body wronged deeply: mended, but at what cost. Breathing a low grunt, he winced as the light made his eyes tear, and the engineer, weakened as a newborn kitten, could only lucidly drift a few meager thoughts together with a faint throated sound of discomfort and distress.

"…Tony… hey Tony… it's me, Rhody…"

Something warm settled on his shoulder as a familiar voice greeted him, pulling him demandingly to the realm of reality. Slowly, brown eyes blinked blearily to peer to the face laced with concern and relief of his friend.

Never had a face looked so good to Tony, and somehow, he found himself smiling weakly, wearily… an effort that felt like a major strain on every muscle of his body for what, in reality, was a weak draw of his lips.

" Mornin'." And then, he realized, he had begun to notice more with his senses returning to him. And the first thing he noticed, he commented on in a voice raw and gravelly. "This bed sucks. Too hard."

That face, though, however, looked… wrong. The dusky warmly familiar features were underlit by something else. Something blue. Straining, he raised his head enough to look down towards his chest, to the reactor glowing brilliantly within his chest, and then, he could FEEL that hum coursing through his body, energy he had missed. Or THOUGHT he missed. Was it all some long bittersweet dream?

"Yeah, Tony, Hospitals normally have lousy beds. That's why I try to stay out of them."

That sharp mind had begun to drift over the setting… his senses relayed the sterilized scents, the clinical blend of bland hospital toned things. That ugly 'barely color' pastel of the wall past his friend. Like a color too shy to admit it's green. Sage… he recalled from television. A universal term for something embarrassingly not quite a REAL green. No, he’d seen real green. A Diva green.

A soothing squeeze to his shoulder drew the inventor back to Rhody. Tony bore a slight frown as he attempted to fathom what happened… what was real, and what could have been imagined. His eyes trailed back down to the light in his chest rimmed by gauze.

"Thought I threw it away."

The Colonel drew a sharp breath through his teeth before he fell into that 'big wiser brother' act. "You had a heart attack, Tony… looks like the arrhythmia after the surgery to remove that shrapnel was more than a side effect. Your heart was attuned to the energy pulses put out by the reactor so without it…" He trailed off before he shook his head. "You know, when they had to put it back in, you're lucky you didn't die on the table while they had to clean it off.  How the hell did you get SEAWATER into your reactor?"

"Threw it into the ocean." The engineer slurred, earning a puzzled frown from Rhody. Tony reached up with a hand that felt heavy, unwieldy, to touch the hard object embedded once more in his chest. It was strange how more complete he felt, again. He didn't realize he missed it so much.

"Huh, how did you get it back? That's not a place for safe swimming, and you were dry as a bone." The Air Force officer knit his brows into a genuinely worried look for Tony who seemed to look still befuddled and rather lost, himself. "You know… let's worry about that later. You're back, and there's no damage aside from a blown tire on your car and a dent on your hood." He had blithely glossed over something, something BIG that Tony probably would not be happy to know about, however, at that point… as weary and as medicated as Tony was, he could hardly care.

He allowed his eyes to drift to the window where a violent explosion of colors seemed to take up the wall… tables, ledge… there were countless flowers, balloons, gifts, stuffed animals, an assortment of good will tithings, and that confused Tony a great deal. A double stacked row of bankers boxes sat lined up like neat soldiers by a wall.

Confusion drew Tony's already baffled mind into a whole new level of befuddlement, and he shifted slightly to peer for a better look.

"What the hell IS all that?"

"Well wishings from people you've touched." Came the reply, the smooth calm voice unmistakable. Raising his head, Tony peered to the blond man clad in casual attire of jeans and a long sleeve brown checkered shirt. It's amazing, really, how even in his civvies Steve Rogers managed to still look as American as apple pie and the Fourth of July. The shirt, though, was hideous.

"Uh… I know I partied a lot, but I don't think I met THAT many women..." 

With arms crossed over his chest, Steve seemed to be stepping from his place, almost like guarding, at the door to enter the room, a soft smile touched by weariness and relief breaking through his perfect military bearing as he shook his head.

"Glad to see you got your humor back… but, no, these are from your fans…"

"Fans?" Tony repeated with a slightly perplexed look. Well, yes. He'd seen the throngs of people wherever he went, but then, Tony Stark ALWAYS was a show, and an attraction for entertainment. Crowds were a given. He didn't think he had FANS, per se.

"…and friends." Steve concluded. To this, Tony began to look dubious, glancing to Rhody who intervened before a brittle remark escaped the engineer.

"Look, Tony… there was a LOT more happening with the Mandarin incident than you and I saw, but the truth of the matter is, everyone was scrabbling around for YOUR sake behind the scenes, even if there wasn't a jump in rescue with explosions and fanfare. You have me. You have the Avengers. You have FRIENDS."

"You have Ms. Potts, too." Comes an unmistakably gruff voice from the doorway, and immediately, Tony stiffened like a cat cornered by a particularly large dog, his EKG monitor chirping a slightly faster melody of beeping.

Leather and gun oil greeted the room's sterile scents in a shearing stab of reality, cutting through the bland uninspiring scents of a hospital with cold hard truth. The long leather coat rustled with a regal menace around Nick Fury as the Director of SHIELD stalked within the room, a specter of wrath as he settled that dark forbidding eye upon Tony. If he didn't know better, he swore the man was a Dementor hell bound to suck out every bit of joy left in his life.

Fury looked weary.

Instead of bristling and retorting with his usual quipping and jabbing, his pulse slunk to a more steady pace as Tony Stark merely sighed and sunk back against the bed as if willing to simply endure and take whatever fussing would come from the man he'd normally quarrel with in a love/hate relationship laced with a hidden secret mutual respect. Frighteningly contradictory to the stubborn engineer’s temperament… there wasn't an equalling of opposing forces between the two personalities this time.

"What's the matter, Stark? When the Mandarin kidnapped you, did he castrate you? Because you're not an ounce of the MAN you once were."

"Director…" Steve interjected, shocked and appalled, however, Rhody held out a staying hand to the Avenger in a gesture to wait… to pay attention. Oh, he didn't like for a cold remark like that to be bluntly lashed to his friend, and the implications were frankly insulting upon a deeper level.    
  
But then… that's the way Tony responded to ANYTHING. Wound. Challenge. Then he rose, blazing and brilliant, stronger for the wounding. However, a chill settled down his spine as the man upon the bed merely held only a hint of that fire in those chocolate eyes before it faded to the glazed fractured stare.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe that's why she left me…"

"She didn't LEAVE you, Stark. That woman is showing the patience of fucking Buddha by staying on as your CEO of YOUR business empire. She may not be your lover any more…but she's still doing everything in her power to help you." Nick Fury loomed over the lackluster genius in the bed, his voice hard and sharp with brutal fact even as he listened for something. It. The tell tale rise in the broken man's heartbeat before he plunged in for the kill.

"So, you're the one who told her to break up with me." Well, that was a bit of fire behind Tony's words, and yet, not quite enough. Acidic ire was only an inkling of what could drive this man, and the spy was doing his best to grind that essence back out of the broken man.

"If you KNEW Pepper Potts at all, Stark, you would know NO ONE could tell her what to do." As Rhody breathed a soft murmur in agreement to THAT, Steve merely lifted his eyebrows in a knowing look. The red haired woman was a fierce force of nature.

"That tower you gave her…what…. 85% control….renegotiated from 12%? She's turned it into the Avenger Tower, making the remodeling to suit the needs of your team. YES. Your. Team."

A violent jerk twitched through the drugged man's body as surprise seared through the medicated haze, making Tony struggle to sit up, assisted by Rhody. Looking to the Colonel, he stared in questioning before the nod of confirmation brought a blink to the man who seemed to be slowly dragging himself into reality.

"What? She did? When was this?" Tony questioned with rising uncertainty as Fury eased back with a grimly smug countenance upon his rugged etched features carved by time and brutal experience.

"Since she had her treatment for the Extremis, Tony." Steve explained in his peacekeeping tone to attempt to ease the harsh sharpness of Fury's words with further truth in a less jarring manner. "You were so out of it… "

"You had no fucking CLUE what's happened in your own company." The Spy elaborated with succinct finality.

With a deep drawn breath, Rhody reached up to rub his hand over his face before he shifted a silent look to the Spy. "Tony, we were ALL worried, even Director Fury here, that we were losing you. Especially when you seemed to be making this whole 'Domestic Tony' identity… honestly, it's scary, and it's not you."

"I just wanted to make Pepper happy…" Tony attempted to defend that ragged ideal, that fractured fleeting dream that had begun to drift through his fingers like so much sand from Afghanistan, searing and unable, unwilling to be held.

"You wanted to make the IDEA of Miss Potts happy. If you REALLY cared about her, you'd notice how miserable she became… and it's all because of you." Folding his arms over his chest, the spy narrowed his gaze, however, that hard countenance softened unexpectedly, uncharacteristically.

"I fucking HATE getting dragged into domestic relationship shit, it's not my job, and I'd frankly rather face Victor Von Doom with a pop gun than get involved, but… you've become a national icon… and a liability in your state. You're also presenting the military, the Avengers, AND your own company a threat… and so after Miss Potts, Colonel Rhodes here, the Avengers and I have met and discussed… we came to a conclusion."

Clearing his throat, Steve stepped forward.  "An Avenger Intervention. We're going to help you be more… you again. Since you're part of the team… we're going to take care of you, at the Tower, until Tony Stark is Iron Man again."

"You can't do that to me…" Tony had begun to wriggle, already beginning to feel confined in the bed, and he reached out to catch the IV tubes nestled within his arm to tug free, but Rhody's hand stayed him. He raised imploring earnest eyes to his friend, a puppyish desperate gaze that silently begged him NOT to put him through this ridiculous farce of a rehab. "…you can't let them do that to me."

"Sorry, Tony… it's for your own good. It's not so bad… really. You're not going to be happy with us, I know… but we're your friends, and we're here to help you." He paused, then offered a slight grin to his friend, easing his grip to stand back before jerking his thumb to the ominous leather clad man in their midst. "Even this guy."

With a derisive snort, Nick Fury settled the officer a withering look before rolling his eye, easing his stance. "I was mistaken when I thought alcohol and partying were 'self destructive' behaviors. Ironing and bad omelets have taken taken it to a whole new level." He paused before relenting with a gruff sigh. "Fine… fine. Things have been dull and ineffective without your presence in the Avengers, Stark. They miss you. The world misses you."

An awkward silence settled as Tony seemed to mull over these words spoken. And possibly unspoken. However, before the inventor could speak, the Spy turned to stalk out of the room, leaving as abruptly as he came.

Grinning slightly, Rhody tucked his hands into his pockets as he followed the director to the door. "I know you're going to be pretty ticked off about all of this, Tony, but it'll be worth it. You need to know that you're not alone, you'll always have us. After you've gotten in touch with yourself, let's do drinks. I miss 'Old Tony'. He was fun."

As one of the stable anchors in Tony's existence departed with the fading sound of footsteps, the room settled into a thick invasively awkward silence between Steve and Tony. The leader of their merry band quietly studied the eccentric engineer who began to look more like himself with the irritation and annoyance showing on his haggard face. It's a far cry better than the broken man in the bed earlier. The super soldier would never know how Fury could build a person up by tearing them down. Then again… he WAS the master spy.

It made him wonder exactly how much HE got manipulated. However, Steve had come to accept this as part of the truths in their current time. "The team really missed you, Tony. Especially Thor. He's been kicking himself pretty hard over being away with the Mandarin fiasco. We all were hitting ourselves over it, and Bruce went into hiding in India for a while… again."

"Why?" Tony asked finally, his voice somewhat rough, raw… whether from disuse or the weight of the situation, it reminded the Soldier that Tony was still a human among their lot… probably the most. It was hard to notice before, but that argument they had initially returned to him to make greater sense. Without his armor, what was Tony Stark?

A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

He didn't realize precisely how powerful those properties were until later…until he saw the footage about how Tony, in no armor, seemingly defenseless, faced down the God of Chaos himself. He taunted Loki and challenging him with nothing save his own wit and pride.

With THOSE stripped away, what did THAT leave Iron Man?

Human.

And as they worked as a team in the battlefield New York, and the battles after, they'd grown to rely on that fierce fiery spirit of Tony to fuel their own wills and push them to persevere beyond their boundaries. His bravery and playfulness turned even the grimmest situation into an adventure, his cunning turned a dire threat into a farce. And after… recouping or simply bonding as a team, he sparked a sense of fun and camaraderie, belying a generous spirit beneath that superficial exterior of grandiose narcissism. 

He'd taken each of their most damning, darkened traits in stride, and turned them into something he casually accepted: often teasing or taunting, but lightening the weight of those details. Highly inappropriate at first, the others realized it was his way of accepting their vices or vicious aspects and lessen their sting or sweeten the bitter bite.

"Because… we need Tony Stark."

"You need Iron Man." Tony hazarded, scoffed as those coffee toned sullen eyes narrowed slightly. Mistrustful, and yet, he seemed weighed down by weariness before he laid back. Exhaustion crept upon him emotionally and physically. Wordlessly, Steve stepped to the windows to open them, allowing fresh air to flow within, slightly cool, comforting. It drove in the scents of flowers and life to banish the sterile stench of the hospital room before he turned finally to look to his comrade in arms. His friend.

"We need the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist." Captain America said with a soft smile, earning a decidedly odd look from the man upon the bed as the Soldier lost in time strode out the door, closing it gently behind him. Even if something hadn't been said, Tony knew he was still on the other side of the door, as alert as a watchdog.

The inventor puzzled over this. Something that, despite the drugs and the blinders of domestication he'd fitted himself with, piqued his interest. For the first time in months he may have found something interesting and new, not merely a glazing gloss to numb the mind and simply function 'as he should'.

With a soft rustling sound from the window, he turned his gaze to peer to a rather large bird perched there, peering from amidst marigolds and bright colored daisies all in reds and yellows. Cocky and starkly black and white, the bold creature simply stared back to the man within the hospital bed as if scouring the details of a peculiar oddity. Or a bug to peck at.

Furrowing his brows slightly, sleepy and irritated, Tony glared at the bird ineffectually, pouting slightly. "What the hell are YOU looking at?"

With a rather aloof quirk of its head, a low almost insulted sound escaped the magpie as it spread it's wings with a faint rustle. The bird flaunted it's freedom as it flew from the room he, himself, was stuck within. As if taunting with a cruel irony the flight he'd always loved… lost with the destruction of his suits.

Drifting to sleep, soothed by the soft rhythmic beeping and the lull of the arc's energy hum within his chest that he’d missed, he let himself sink into a darkness that was, for the first time in a long time… free of fear.

He suspected it was the drugs they had him on. He was going to have to chat with the doctor when he came back to wakefulness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:
> 
> AMAZING REVISED CHAPTER!  
> \- Sorry for the couple of years delay, but I took several classes and workshops in writing, and I made a MASSIVE overhaul in this story, the most noticeable of all is it is all in past tense. After I have posted the revised chapters, expect to see a fresh new chapter down the line!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> First things first, I'm looking for a Beta to help me proof and edit. Any help at all would be greatly appreciated! And now, for my points:
> 
> 1\. I apologize for the dark somber start of this. I promise, it will be a devious, zany, exciting blitz of a story in no time, I merely wanted to get this jarring jostling start presented. One for Sorrow, lives up to it's meaning. 
> 
> 2\. All feedback is appreciated, including constructive criticism! While I have a plan for the chapters, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to hear ideas or speculations.
> 
> 3\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another.
> 
> 4\. Do you know...  
> ...what One for Sorrow means? If you do, post it in the comments!
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises!


	2. Two for Joy (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony begins the path of recovery, but he's haunted by a 'ghost' from his past. He's able to make amends he'd never thought he'd be able to, and he learns that a lot has happened while he's been out. Regaining his patent Stark Snark, Tony begins rebuilding his perspective, and he finds that he must attract annoying things from across the realms, because that bird seems to enjoy harassing him. Probably for his food.
> 
> A visit with his cardiologist brings surprising results, and a faith maybe he HADN'T completely lost his marbles. Also, Tony would like to discuss his nurse.
> 
> Free sample:  
> "I've come for you, Mr Stark."
> 
> The gentle quiet soothed by the gentle distant sounds of a world turning as it should outside the window was suddenly disturbed by the frantic beeping of the EKG machine, the rapid chirps accompanied by a tone, a tell tale sound of automatic warning as his heart rate accelerated to a dangerous level as the inventor felt his very endangered heart was attempting to force it's way up through his throat to throttle his brain that seemed to have hit an infinite loop between shock, disbelief, denial, hope, and realization, then back to shock again.

When Tony had begun to drift back into the world of the living, and waking, he could FEEL he was being watched. His spine tingled with the pressure of instinct, a remnant of his primal inheritance from a line of survival of the fittest to let him know he was being observed, potentially in danger. It even overrode his more prominent civilized instinct of rolling over and ignoring it away. 

Largely, he told himself, that he also felt like he was tangled in a tubing factory accident gone horribly wrong. And so, he had no choice but to blearily open his eyes, chocolate glazed hazed hues drifting upward to peer to a face above him.

A smiling face.

Deceptively gentle, and cruelly pleasant, it was an almost unflappable puppyish countenance of a man who could be so easily underestimated, a fond face that looked more at home upon the ex husband of a flippantly flamboyant woman going through a midlife crisis in a comedy of errors than to anything as sinister as a secret government organization.

A face Tony Stark knew ALL too well.

"I've come for you, Mr Stark."

The gentle quiet soothed by the gentle distant sounds of a world turning as it should outside the window was suddenly disturbed by the frantic beeping of the EKG machine. Rapid chirps accompanied by a tone, a tell tale sound of automatic warning as his heart rate accelerated to a dangerous level as the inventor felt his very endangered heart was attempting to force it's way up through his throat to throttle. Tony’s brain seemed to have hit an infinite loop between shock, disbelief, denial, hope, and realization, then back to shock again.

Phil Coulson merely smiled in his own pleasantly winsomely sheepish way.

Immediately, Tony jerked back in the bed, scrabbling with a rush of shock and fear. "Fuck… Coulson! It's the Agent of Christmas' past… I swear, I celebrate Christmas….every year, but I'll do Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan… "

As the door opened sharply, a black and purple leather clad figure ambled in with a light laugh, blond feathery awry hair no better than bedhead as Clint grinnedto Phil before looking to the unspeakably spooked Tony that tried to press himself as far away as he could from the very real man in their midst who seemed to be calm in that mild yet gently amused manner.

"Geeze, Phil, you're scaring the smarts out of the man. Give him a break, he IS recovering from a heart attack…" Despite himself, the trickster archer could not help but find the scene… well, cruel, but amusing to no end.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Though quaintly smiling somewhat sheepishly, still, there was a mischievous twinkle in Phil’s eyes before he turned his attention to the Tony who was who beginning to pant with hissed breaths, shaking slightly as he gripped the bed's rails in white knuckles and trembling fingers. The smile falters. "I think I overdid it…"

"You THINK?" Clint remarked sharply as he noticed the obvious signs of a panic attack in their rather fractured teammate. Pushing the door open aside to allow a nurse within to check on Tony, he murmured something softly to the 'patient technician' before she pressed a button upon the machine metering one of the countless bags and vials into the catheter nestled into Tony's vein in his arm. She then robustly chastised the pair of deadly men roundly before marching out.

Immediately, the shaking had begun to fade in a slow bleed of drug induced calm as Clint slipped around to fill Tony's view with a reassuring smile, a face grinning as it always had in battle. Looking all the dopier with that silly round nose. "Hey, Tony… it's Clint…remember me? Birdy… Tweety, Legolas, yeah, I remember the nicknames. Nurse just gave you a lil happy juice, but you'll be fine. Coulson's…"

"He's dead…" Tony stated, voice still slightly tersed as he attempted to gather his jumbled jittered thoughts back into some coherent working order.

"Only for eight seconds. The rumors of my death were highly exaggerated…" Came the words as Coulson moved to peer to Tony from over the archer's shoulder. Mercifully, the drugs working into the patient's system lessened the shock to an unsettled surprise, and for a supposed 'ghost' to be acting so normal, so PHIL it made things increasingly strange. Thank goodness Clint was there as a reassurance.

"But the funeral…" Tony began, then he recalled a detail that had troubled him at the time. "Closed casket."

"Tahiti… it's a magical place. You probably wouldn't like it there, though." Phil simply shrugged as if his miraculous return was nothing more than a daily event, and Clint eased back as Tony seemed to have grasped the situation better… and ungrasped the bed.

Exhaling a breath, Clint reached up to rub his forearm taut with the muscle of his trade, cocking his head aside slightly as he peered to the rather unsettled man inhabiting the bed. "But, you gotta admit… it's kinda funny… Scrooge."

Like the Berlin Wall, battered by demand and desperation, the wary edgy shell cracked, crumbling slightly as Tony slumped back on the bed with a dirty look to the pair.

"Bah humbug, you assholes."

"I did come for you, though. Just to discuss a few matters. That… and to hand you a few things." Opening the leather carrying case, he passed a bag of something. Dried blueberries. "This is from Dr. Banner. He wants to make certain you don't attempt to jail break your room in search of snacks. I'll have more delivered."

Staring to the bag, an eerie sense of deja vu settled within the inventor, recalling painfully vividly the last time he'd truly spoken to Phil… and even then, barely civil. He'd truly been an ass to the man, and regretted the attitude he'd shown him in the very same room he'd avenged him later. Reaching out, he accepted the bag with a faint grin that tugged impishly at his lips, grateful for his thoughtful 'science bro' and silently acknowledged a second chance with a man he'd thought dead.

"Thanks, I love being handed things." As that quirky smile returned to greet him, Tony felt an insurmountable knot eased and he found himself smiling in return.

"Good. I've more things to hand you. Agent Barton… why don't you go for a break? Maybe talk to that pretty nurse I saw you eyeing earlier. I'll take care of things here." As Tony settled Clint a decidedly Stark worthy smirk, a sense of ease settled more into the room.

With a good natured grumble about 'deadbeats', the sharpshooter shot a cocky grin to Tony, two fingers raised in a feigned jaunty salute before he turned to depart, closing the door behind him with a quiet soft click. Settling into the chair beside the bed with a gentle rustle of that impeccable suit, the SHIELD agent silently gazed upon the vulnerable man before him before he withdrew something from the large leather case… a packaged toy?

Blinking baffled brown eyes, Tony stared at the object, a little Iron Man action figure, before he raised confused surprised eyebrows to look to Coulson with genuine perplexity.

"Why do you look surprised?" Phil simply chuckled softly before he pointed to the company logo upon the product. Stark Industries.

When the HELL had he become a toy?

"Ms Potts is a smart woman. She made the contracts and  gained the agreements of all of the Avengers to allow for them to be marketed. With needed modifications for some individuals, of course, for security and privacy reasons. It's been rather popular, you know. The Avengers have become national heroes and pop icons. Of course, after the Mandarin, you must have missed it, going into WHO knows where…" Phil trailed off as he thoughtfully peered to the package in his hands.

"You should see how many of these fly off the shelves. How many children and adults alike proudly carry or wear your logo or likeness. Not to mention how the number of science and engineering majors has been skyrocketing at colleges and universities. Whether you intended it, or not, you've made an impact."

Staring dumbfoundedly, the hero merely gazed to the agent who revealed something he hadn't an inkling of comprehension about. Never, in his whitewashed crafted dreams of being the 'domesticated man wife' to Pepper, he'd ever realized precisely what he was missing. What he had DONE.

How the hell could THE Tony Stark possibly fall into subdued obscurity for the sake of making some perfect humble ideal? An ideal he was simply hiding behind?    
  
And he realized, that what Pepper wanted, wasn't a subdued man wife, but the brilliant hero everyone saw him to be. She wanted him to simply be HIM. It made his sore heart flutter a little.

"Would it be too much to ask…?" And more so, as Coulson held out not merely the toy for him to admire… a little idol of him, but a gold marker as well, the engineer could not help but find this a moment as shocking and electrifying as one of Thor's thunderbolts. This wasn't the first time Tony Stark had been asked to autograph something. He'd learned long ago how to make a perfect signature at any angle, at any level of inebriation, and any surface from paper to a bountiful pair of breasts.

However, this… this was the first time that it actually carried a weight, a meaning behind it. An unfathomable level of respect despite the awkwardness.

With fingers slightly numbed from the medication and his own jostled senses, he took the marker, peering to the little figure before signing upon the packaging after a moment of honest contemplation.

'To Phil, a true hero. Thank you - Tony Stark.'

With a genuine smile, a warmth one wouldn't expect from an agent of an elite secret organization, the prize was collected with utmost reverence as the SHIELD member peered to the writing, and an almost child-like glee mingled with that almost absurd awkward edge. Phil was so  _ disarming _ , it was hard to believe that he did what he did for a living.

Then again, that's part of what made Coulson the best.

"Thanks Mr. Stark… my kids will go crazy when they see this." Phil slipped his treasure back into his bag before he spelunkers for yet another object to share with the bedridden man who had already torn into the blueberry package and began to nibble on the dried treats he'd missed. He had some serious thanks to give his Science Bro.

"Phil… it's Tony… you've earned…" The innovator blinked slowly, halting his chews as something sluggishly slithered through his head as he peered to the man before his with an open gape of surprise. "Wait… whoa…. you have KIDS?!"

Somehow, he could picture the man as a pricelessly great dad: being there for soccer games, helping kids with their homework, building a slightly lopsided tree house, abducting school bullies with zip ties about the wrists and black out bags on the head to scare the bad right out of them.

A sheepish grin betrayed Coulson as he ducked his head slightly, absently shuffling his neatly polished shoe upon the floor with a hesitant dash of a fidget. "Well, it's half my team, actually. The young-uns really, but bright minds. Two are Academy wizs that make science like you and Dr. Banner… with slightly less collateral damage, and another is a stray we picked up off the street. Promising people analysis and computer skills but just a bit of a wildfire and pride issues. She idolizes you, though. Says that real heroes don't hide, and they fight using the truth."

"'Make science'? Shame on you, Agent, you make what we do behind closed doors sound unwholesome." All jesting aside, Tony sat back as he ruminated over the revelation of the Agent's little brood and their evident adoration. It gave him a warm fuzzy sensation. Or, that could have been heartburn… that's the story he'd stick to. His head snapped up as words drifted back to him, vague and almost surreal from the heart attack that seemed to be a twisted broken series of moments after Pepper's denial to his proposal. A denial that… now… oddly, didn't sting as it had then. The words, however, he couldn't place, nor the voice blurred in confusing forgetfulness.

"I have standards to maintain… and my pride."

A loud abrupt caterwaul of a squawk sounded from the window, ensnaring the attention of both men momentarily. The agent merely lofted an eyebrow at the large black and white bird that sat poised upon the sill, pecking aside the marigolds in one of the clear glass vases to better eye Tony.

Recognition settled upon Tony's features as he recalled a bird from the night before… the same? Similar? He's no wildlife expert. He DID feel like it was watching him very carefully, though, almost expectantly.

"Back to laugh at me?" With his attention having dropped to the bag within his hands, he plucked up one of the blueberries with a contemplative fondling of the fruit before it was tossed it to the bird: perhaps on whim, perhaps he thought it may have been seeking food. "Here… catch!"

As the tidbit soared into the air, the creature caught it nimbly in the sharp black beak, devouring it swiftly before it lurked forward like a little cow mottled vulture awaiting more.

Somehow, this nestled a bud of amusement in the engineer who felt patched and wrapped back together shoddily like a piece of duct taped Appalachian American engineering. Somehow, someone wanting him to give them something was an aspect he found very familiar, and strangely comforting. Everyone wanted something from insanely rich genius.

And so, another blueberry was tossed to the bird as Tony ate another, beginning to grin as the avian, a rather STYLISH bird, nimbly hopped to catch the treat.

"You know, Tony… when you're discharged from the hospital, Fury gave me the order to take you to the Tower… we'll be taking you on my bus."

Another berry flew, another caught, and more and more, the bird ventured further into the room, finding this game with the human equally as entertaining.

"Wonder what kind of bird it is."

"It's nice, a smooth ride. It even has a bar…"

"Kind of looks posh, don't you think? Like he's wearing a suit… from an angle, it looks like he has green and blue…"

"…stripper pole in the back…"

Tony froze, blinking absurdly as he turned his attention to Coulson, another blueberry forgotten in his fingers as well as the bird now perched upon the safety rail of his bed.

"Are stripper poles standard issue at SHIELD?"

To this, a soft chuckle escaped Coulson. "No, I was just seeing if you were listening."

Affronted, ever so mildly, the engineer huffed a soft scoff as he pretended to be unamused. "Just because I'm ignoring you it doesn't mean I'm not lis-ow!" A yelp interjected into his words as a sharp pinch greeted his fingers as that bird plucked the berry free and pecked at the hand not continuing to feed it.

"Geeze, ow… all right… fine… here…" Collecting a handful of the dried fruit, he held it up to the bird, allowing it to peck and collect the morsels at it's leisure.

However, Tony could not help but smile, despite himself, raising his attention to the Agent that always had shown a remarkable patience. He'd given him hell in the past, and he'd felt downright guilty after Coulson's death… or supposed death. The guy wasn't so bad, he decided. Sure as hell more palatable than his taskmaster.

Somehow, he felt himself easing into old habits in himself, not feeling forced or driven on a superficial autopilot. With the sleep… medicated as it may have been, he felt more rested, and with his arc reactor, he felt more whole, himself.

"Thanks, Phil."

Raising an eyebrow, the agent merely peered to the eccentric fellow with a questioning patience. "It's just a taxi trip. Besides, you'll just have to entertain the kids for a while." A low chuckle escaped him as he pictured the pair of scientist agents that would assail Tony Stark with the mental and verbal unity of identical twins.

Shaking his head, Tony glanced down to the bird that seemed to have taken a shine to him for his food, continuing to feed it berry after berry.

"Nah, not that. But, yeah, that'll be fun, too. No, what I meant was… visiting me. Bringing me snacks. That the wildlife is stealing." With a low grunt, he shifted to find a more comfortable position. "Talking to you… I'm realizing I've been missing a lot over the past few months." He remained silent for a long moment as he pursed his lips while his mind dithered and drifted amidst his thoughts, feeling that shining dream he'd been building slowly burning like a cheap movie set facade.

"Do you know what I want? My old clothes. I really miss my old clothes… forgot what I did with them. And this flimsy THING I'm wearing, what the hell… my ass feels exposed even under all these covers."

With a genuine grin that adorned the suit clad fellow's face, mingling a cocktail of mischief and playful warmth, Phil nodded: a touch of a knowing gesture barely tilting his head. "All right, I'll make sure the Avengers help and bring your missing things. I'll acquire you more fruit, too."

Tony had relented to the gift as a lost cause, and soon enough, the bird was perched upon his hand, digging into the bag with soft rustles of the plastic, making low sounds. It seemed rather odd to the man who never had a single pet in his lifetime… to have the weight of that bird sitting upon him, asking him… or manipulating… him for food. It was novel. Refreshing. And even after the bird rose to flutter away through the window in a flaring spread of black and white wings, he could not help but find amusement. Iron Man stared out into the sky long after the creature vanished from sight.

"I miss flying." came the soft admission.

"Well, then, I suppose it's a good thing I brought this." Coulson's words came with a note of smug amusement as something was placed within Tony's hands, and as he dropped his gaze to the flat familiar object, the inventor's face lit with a brilliant joy like a child's on Christmas morning.  With a dance of his fingers over the surface of the light pad, holographic images danced up to the air like the illusions of a wizard of fantasy and lore. Cantrips of light and sensors.

"Jarvis! Long time no see, buddy!"

"Months… Sir. And may I say, it is a relief to see you again." That smile faltered slightly.

"Months?" Alert brown eyes flitted from the smugly knowing smirk on the agent's face before snapping to the screen. That date… he'd merely been out for a few days since his heart attack… what did Jarvis mean by MONTHS? Ah… wait. Yes. Realization struck home.

A painful one, at that. He might have been able to dismiss Fury, ignore the others, and laugh away the preposterousness of suggestions of him being 'lost'… but when his own AI told him he had been missed even while present, then he truly must have lost his way.

Softly, a fond smile graced his lips as he touched his fingers to the spectral holograms hanging in thin air. With expert flicks and flits of his hands, he drifted parts of the interface around, feeling far more content, at home, than he had in a long, long time. "Thanks, J. It's good to be back."

 

~~~

 

Dr Baati was a pleasant mild mannered man with the softest hands Tony Stark had ever seen. And considering that the infamous playboy had his Small World assortment of flings and one night stands with a variety of women, that really said something. But, then again… that's part of the reason, he supposed, that he trusted the fellow anywhere NEAR his heart. A surgeon with thick blunt calloused hands like a construction worker would be an ill omen. No way in hell would he have allowed a pair of sausage laden mitts near HIS internal organs. Hands, he believed, spoke a great deal about a person, and it's one of the things Tony relied on to try to read more about an individual.

He felt trust medically in a person with nimble dexterous fingers, softened by a trade requiring precision and sensitivity, and when he'd first met his doctor, those hands put him at far better ease than any of those documents sprawled across the 'I love me' wall in their decorative frames like little windows into a paper world.

The surgeon, however, DID have the good graces to look somewhat sheepish as he sat quietly beside his patient. Steve unobtrusively occupied the corner by the window with his sketch pad, seeming to be more focused upon the world outside the open window than the discussion transpiring within the room.

"Look, Doc… I'm not blaming you for not knowing that taking my lightbrite out was going to mess with my heart. You put it back, things are working fine… hell, how many Arc Reactors DO you work with, eh?" He offers a cocky light grin to the man swathed in a lab coat and bearing a blue tie with a fine silk sheen pattern of a tell tale A that seems to have become quite the iconic mark for the Avengers. Coulson's quiet words returned to Tony, and he found himself wondering exactly HOW far their influence had spread… because he certainly didn't take the doctor to be the brown nosing sort. He was far too professional. At least, however, Tony managed to pry forth a smile from the concerned man.

"None, I'm afraid, Mr Stark, aside from yours." The good doctor replied as he adjusted his glasses with a habitual gesture, a faint smile easing past his worry.

"Damn straight, and since I work with them more, I should have know better, right? Right. So, we both learned something, I'm better… in SO many ways, and now I won't be stubbing my toe any more at night when I hunt for the bathroom in the dark. Nifty." Dropping his gaze to the circle of light, the eccentric genius tapped absently on the clear surface before a boyish grin betrayed the billionaire. "Y'know… I kinda missed it, Doc. I feel more… me."

"You look more you." Steve remarked softly before he raised his head, meeting the stare of his teammate. Pausing a moment, he shook his head, waving the hand with the pencil lightly. "The 'Domestic Tony' wasn't a good look."

"You don't say." Tony replied with a wry acrid note. "No apple pie for you, Captain America." He paused as a slight grin betrayed the soldier's face, blue eyes twinkled obviously with mirth. The affronted inventor pointed a finger to his fellow Avenger in mock warning. "Not ONE word about my cooking."

"That may have been part of the aspect of your palpitations." Dr Baati pointed out with a soft thoughtful tone, analyzing the symptoms and interlaced details of what he'd heard of Tony's situation prior to the impromptu surgery.

"Come again?" This, however, captured Tony's attention, turning an owlishly surprised gaze to the doctor even as Steve sat up in his seat, both as alert as dogs presented with a treat.

"Just like the heart can be stressed by emotional issues, emotional imbalance has also been attributed to occasional cases of heart attacks, or certain cardio disorders. If you think of it… it made a vicious cycle. By removing the Arc Reactor, your body was thrown off balance, especially with your heart, which then inadvertently raised your stress levels without you realizing it. A lowering of your testosterone could be an aspect of the unsettling unbalancing of your systems and the stress. That could easily explain physical difficulties and unusual moods or uncharacteristic thought patterns."

And there, a resounding fleshy swat filled the room as Tony planted his hand over his face, feeling… FEELING the surprised, suspicious, sympathetic eyes of his brother in arms locked upon him. Great. First PTSD issues, then heart surgery, now he's contending with his HORMONES being out of whack?

What the hell was this… man menopause? Manopause?

"What the hell?! You're saying, NOW, when my arc reactor's out, it won't kill me right away, but it’ll sure take my manliness away from me?!" Both hands were thrown into the air in emphatic denial, waving slightly to ward off the theories like a vicious swarm of mosquitos. "Oh HELL no! I'm not having this conversation… I'm having a REALLY weird dream. I'm Tony Stark! My penis has a passport, it's travelled so many places. Loki's playing a prank… you're not him, are you?"

"Mr Stark…" The doctor spoke, gently, yet professionally, quite used to his patient's absurd ramblings and steamrolled his way right over them. Tony knew… he KNEW what was about to be asked. And, he utterly despised the answer because the thought hadn't occurred to him before. Or his pride prevented him from consciously noticing it. "Have you been noticing difficulties with intimate activities?"

And as he heard laughter coming from the American Legend's end of the room, he growled low, irate with seething humiliation that coiled like venomous vipers waiting to strike.

"Steve… I thought a great guy like you wouldn't laugh at something like this..."

A long pause settled like a thick awkward blanket, askew and threatening to fall into a tumble any moment.

"Ah… Tony, that wasn't me…"

As Tony raised his head finally, turning his gaze to the the bewildered soldier, his eyes fell upon a familiar black and white plumed avian perched and eyeing him with what… he would SWEAR… was sadistic glee. Or maybe his delusion issues were getting the better of him. Again, that strange laugh filled the room, and it was coming from THAT cheeky dichromatic bird. A half hearted scowl was aimed to laden upon the bird, but the jaunty creature refused to be cowed in the slightest, merely remaining poised with an insufferable elegance.

"Have you come back to raid me of my snacks? MY snacks. Don't you have bugs to eat, somewhere? Maintain the circle of life or something?"

However, as the large bird fluttered in to sit upon the safety rail of the bed, trilling something that sounded SUSPICIOUSLY like a chuckle, the inventor merely eyed the bird flatly with a stubborn consternation before he raised the new bag of blueberries, shaking it to make a tell tale rattle of dried sweet goodness within. As the bird made a chirped sound of acknowledgment, flaring its wings wide, he merely sighed… relenting to open and toss the dried morsels, one after another, to the bird.

With the sound of a throat being politely cleared beside him, Tony exhaled a sigh before he turned his attention to the man gifted with great patience, an attribute required to be his doctor.

"Sorry, Doc, this damn bird seems to like coming and pestering me. Probably because I have my black market smuggling in better food than can be found in this clinical clink."

"Should I have it removed?" The doctor inquired, adjusting his glasses over his eyes as he observed with a touch of amusement as his patient seemed to have found some entertainment, despite his words, in playing games of toss with the feathered interloper.

"Can you remove all the other people pestering me?" Tony inquired dryly as he raised his eyebrows before looking pointedly to the American Hero who quietly returned to sketching, though, an amused smile seemed to tug the soldier's lips. With the chuckle and shake of his head that came from the doctor, he sighed with apparent resignation mingled with exasperation, shaking his own before he simply held out his hand to offer more fruit to the bird that settled to perch imperiously upon the railing beside him in order to collect the tithings offered. "I'll keep it, then. At least the bird doesn't talk back to me."

"Good day, Mr. Magpie." The doctor greeted the bird finally, and it raised it's head to peer to the surgeon before dipping its head, almost like a nod before continuing to eat the food. With the queer look Tony steered to the surgeon, Baati clarified with a tone of amusement. "Where I am from, it is bad luck to not greet a magpie. If you greet one cordially, it brings good luck."

"I remember that custom when I was stationed in England." Steve piped up thoughtfully, his attention still focused upon the sketch pad where the pencil danced over the paper with the soft soothingly scritched sounds of carbon on parchment filled the quiet.

"Ah, nice to have this cheerio and pip pip stuff… culture share is wonderful, but can we kind of get back to my hormonal emotional crisis here?" Tony finally stated, actually WANTING to discuss that instead of this current topic that was entirely for the birds. He didn't relish the notion of having to take testosterone pills like an old geezer for the rest of his life. He's not THAT old!

"Yes, yes… back to the topic on hand, Mr. Stark… I will have your hormone levels tested again. I suspect with your device back and stabilizing your cardio rhythm, your endocrine balances should be leveling back out, however, if need be, you can have a hormone treatment offered to you." With the face Tony pulled, akin to a child biting into a sour lemon, he headed off any acerbic retorts with a compromising addition. "Temporarily, of course."

"Fine… fine…" The eccentric engineer relented reluctantly before he absently nibbled upon a blueberry like a moody squirrel, not looking content with the order, at all. "So, what have you been giving me at night? I've been sleeping like I hadn't since…" He didn't wish to say it, didn't wish to awaken a troublesome dragon from its sleep. "… a long time." It's true, though… Coulson aside, he hadn't been having the anxiety attack issues that had haunted him since New York. He SLEPT the previous two nights.

"Propofol, however, this is MERELY a temporary measure to ease the strain upon your heart as you recover. It is, by no means, a cure for your PTSD issues. Those… you will need to seek help specific to that. Even if you refuse professional help, at least get help with your friends."

Dark brows furrowed slightly with a stubborn prideful consternation as Tony leaned back in the bed, silent and obviously stubborn upon the issue of 'getting help'. Maybe, however… maybe he could talk to Bruce. He was a doctor, right? And Banner was someone he trusted dearly.

Suddenly, he felt a weight upon his chest, small claws clattered as the bird hopped his way to land upon Tony's chest to perch over the arc reactor, staring him dead in the eye before the cocky creature leaned down to peck upon his hand and earned a wince in response to its efforts. 'How DARE you cease to feed me', the thing seemed to speak to Tony in that look, and as the engineer had begun to feed it, it seemed appeased. It tensed slightly as Tony reached his other hand to its back to touch the glossy feathers before he started to stroke it carefully. Slowly, the bird eased as it found the pampering acceptable. It must have been a cat in a bird's body, that was the only way to describe the prissy proud thing.

"You know…" Steve spoke softly as he raised his attention to the man and the bird having a rather exploratory moment before he met the doctor's gaze. "Maybe a pet might be good for him. Therapy dogs and cats worked wonders with guys who got shell shock in the War. Sometimes animals just can fix things people can't."

"That is a valid point to consider." The doctor nodded his agreement as he scribbled something down in his pad in that cryptic script that seemed to be a secret written language of doctors as mysterious and unfathomable as the ancient carved hieroglyphics of the ancient Egyptians. "I believe you should be progressing well, Mr. Stark. I would like to keep you here for another three to four days simply for the sake of recovery and monitoring your heart. The arrhythmia seems to have disappeared, but I need to see that it doesn't return soon. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"

That question earned a look from Tony… almost unreadable until he spoke. "Yeah, tell your night nurse to ease it on manhandling my unconscious body. Gotta be a big guy with marks like these. What do you have, the Hulk in nurse scrubs tossing me around? Geeze, I got bruises I KNOW I didn't have the day before…" He groused as he held up more berries to the bird as he pet it. There was something soothing in the rhythmic action of touch on the little living body covered in feathers and filled with attitude.

"Don't mind Tony, Doctor, he is complaining. And if he's complaining and not trying to fix anything… he's fine." Steve replied with a grin, looking not in the least bit concerned by the notion that his brother in arms was being manhandled in his sleep. He looked… almost… amused.

"Steve…you know something, don't you." Tony seared a laser hot sharp stare to the man who seemed to shrug off the glare unfalteringly from those strong shoulders.

"The less I know, frankly, the better."

"I believe…" The doctor stated as he rose, brushing down his pants before he hugged the clip-board to his chest. "I will let the night nurse know about your concerns."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Another Revision made! Joy to all.
> 
> To all of you who read my first chapter, gave kudos, and especially left comments, you're fabulous folk! Thank you very much for taking your time to read my work!
> 
> First things first, I'm still looking for a Beta to help me proof and edit. Any help at all would be greatly appreciated! And now, for my points:
> 
> 1\. Tons of Brownie Points go to Lilymoncat for guessing the previous chapter's trivia question! "One For Sorrow" is an old rhyme attributed to counting Magpies (or ravens, depending on where you're from), as well as a fun form of fortune telling. Magpies are considered creatures of varying portent in different parts of the world, some as beneficial, some not so beneficial, and some as a form of augury. The more you know!
> 
> 2\. Next TRIVIA fun! I've hidden in the chapter a reference for a TV series the actor of one of the characters was in, and to be sporting, I'll give two clues.  
> \- Something New and something Old  
> \- Ex marks the spot  
> The first person who gets it gets the prize: I'll make a one shot off of any challenge you give me. No holds barred (as long as it's not requiring me to write something as long as War and Peace).
> 
> 3\. Dr Baati is an original character because SOMEONE went digging around in Tony's engine... and that is not a euphemism for anything. He's not based off of anyone (and any resemblance to another is purely coincidence). His name is a pun off of 'Body', but still sounding very Doctorly.
> 
> 4\. All feedback is appreciated, including constructive criticism, and I adore all of you who left comments! While I have a plan for the chapters, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to hear ideas or speculations.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another.
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	3. Three for a Girl (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns the terror that is the Wrath of the Night Nurse, and he discovers what fear and agony truly can be. He also decided who the scariest person he'd ever met would be. Tony finds himself conversing with a nemesis, and Loki is more than content to discuss and banter with Tony, sharing a few 'painful truths'.
> 
> Who is the Night Nurse? What does Loki ever so casually share with Tony? And is Barton joking, or is he serious? Read to find out!
> 
> ~~~  
> WARNING... Adultish content I suppose, there's some man handing of Little Tony. And if you don't know what that is an euphanism for, or what an euphanism is, you might want to skip to the second half.
> 
> Thank you for being extra patient with me... between college finals and having to be on the road like a gypsy for almost a week, it's been tough to work on this. Plus... I'm still looking for a Beta to help me proof read. Believe it or not, proofing takes a LOT of time for me to do to catch grammatical errors, fresh eyes always help. 
> 
> As always, thank you for the feed back, folks! You make my day!

The nature of the slumbering mind was a mysterious realm, undiscovered and inscrutable. What do people dream of? Why do they dream of them? What thoughts could possibly traverse from the mysterious subconscious into the light of the knowing world? These deep questions would have to continue to remain unknown, swathed in their eternal enigma.

What WAS known, however, was that waking… for some, was never a pleasant practice. And for Tony Stark, waking transpired one of two ways. Either the abrupt shock of a panic attack as his heart hammered in his chest and breath captured tight in his throat, or a slow gradual blooming affair, much akin to a bear being stirred from hibernation… and just as grizzly. An affair that required much prompting, time, and often a spray bottle filled with chilled water. Usually, of course, in the hand of the woman that was responsible for getting him up and ready on time.

Within the darkness of the patient's room, a rare situation where the engineer had awakened in neither of the two standard methods had transpired with subtle subterfuge. He began to stir from comfortable drugged bliss by a growing sense of something WRONG. Not so much the heart thumping fright of a panic attack, but the sense that something wasn't QUITE right, and he really should have been awake to find out precisely what.

The first thing he noticed… was that soft rhythmic background sound of his EKG that echoed his heart's rhythm with it's electric melody was strangely lacking in this unsettling silence within the darkened room.

The second thing he noticed… was the tip of his nose itched, a nagging demanding sensation. Terribly, That, of course led to the third, and greatest of unsettling realizations. He couldn't lift his hand to scratch it. That troublesome itch fled itself from the engineer's awareness as alarm began to rise suddenly, soft metallic clinks littering loudly amidst the blanketing silence.

Afghanistan. The memory slithered and reared, poised to strike like a vicious sand viper within Tony's mind as he began to struggle within bonds that clearly held his wrists to the safety rails of the bed. If there's one thing that gnawed under his skin… it was being bound. He HATED the cold impartial reminder of limitations and wings he preened and prized being clipped. Well… correction, there WAS that time with that frighteningly tall woman with a perverse penchant for leather and matriarchal dominance. What was her game? Gertrude? Gilda? All he could remember was the words 'Mein Frau' being whipped out of his mouth. Her German accent certainly DIDN'T help one bit, and he STILL got heebie jeebie shivers down his spine whenever that rich rolled accent was spoken in a female voice.

This wasn't the same, however. Someone MEANT him ill intent with the pinch of the tight hand cuffs that bound his wrists to the safety rails, and with the obvious silence of the lacking heart meter, they OBVIOUSLY intended something that would raise his heart rate in a way they didn't want the night medical staff to know… or alert whoever was undoubtedly standing guard outside.

Tony was, undeniably, wary as he spied a figure within the room clustered in deep shadows save for the lone solitary light of his arc reactor dimmed and softened by the sheet draped over his chest.

A tug upon that very same filtering cloth was tugged, pulling the sheet lower so the light flared brilliantly and brightly to illuminate the captive Avenger's face and highlighted his expressions in the eldritch blue glow.

Slowly, one by one the the bags and drip vials that were nurturing, mending, and healing him jostled faintly in the light, obviously being inspected with a cool interest and lacked in any manner of professional warmth one would expect from a service person of the medical field.

Clearing his throat as a rising edge of uncertainty and fear threatened to claw their way up his throat, his heart fluttered in his chest as 'danger' thrummed in his mind, raced through his blood, and  carpooled with adrenalin to banish the gentle kindness of his 'Milk of Amnesia' for the moment.

"Uh… look… you're the night nurse… right?" Hope, he held there. Tony prayed that maybe he came across an employee with strange tastes… or hopefully someone MILDLY irate at him, and not a hired knife to an enemy… or worse, a nemesis who'd like to get 'personal' with him. How many super villains had he pissed off recently? And he HAD been neglecting them their precious attention time, recently hadn't he.

Silence greeted the gregarious genius in a thick imposing weight, as if a dire topic, some slight or burden of ire weighed heavily upon that eerie quiet that lingered in the room that suddenly felt stifling in it's darkness save for he, himself.

"I heard you have some complaints about me, Mr. Stark."

Tony's heart skipped a beat as he heard that wry, dry tone spoken, sotto as death's whisper in the darkness. Surprise, recognition, and rightful fear graced the bound man's blue white lit features, and genuine alarm raced to fill those brown eyes that widen. He knew he was, implicitly, unerringly, and undeniably in danger, and immediately he resorted to his remaining available tool. His tongue.

"It's you! Sorry about the 'Nurse Ratchet' thing. Look, let's just discuss this like civiliaurmmgh!!" And yet, his words were taken away, ruthlessly, brutally by the gauze wadded up and shoved into his mouth, a latex glove stretched and tied with merciless efficiency around his head to hold the gag in place.

Like musical chimes, metal rattled and clinked in complaint as Tony breathed muffled sounds in protest as the figure casually began to remove bags and vials, one by one from the hanging armature, fiendishly efficient yet idle work as Iron Man attempted his helpless struggles.

"There is no need to disturb Agent Barton with that troublesome mouth of yours as I work, Mr. Stark. Though, it IS good to see you awake and more aware of yourself." Beyond the pleasant green scrubs and the deceptively lean and deadly cream pale arms, the alert and alarmed man could catch but a glimpse of the subtle curl of hair, those green eyes that were often the last any would see before greeting death. And they, despite their lingering irritation he inspired, bore a hint of sadistic amusement. He could almost picture the crooked wicked hint of a smile that would grace the 'Nurse's' lips.

Tony Stark knew he was fully, and truly fucked, without hope of help or rescue. The billionaire had finally written a check his ass couldn't cash, and he was going to suffer some serious interest. A faint whimper escaped the man, not having found the cool hand that pat his cheek in false comfort in the least bit reassuring.

"After all…" Suddenly, there was abrupt coldness, a wave of terrifying chill that raised goosebumps over the bound man's bared skin as he's rendered vulnerable by the loss of the blanket. Well, except for the whisper thin gown of that toilet seat paper material, but THAT didn't count. But as even that began to get parted… tugged open to expose his torso, his breath caught within his throat as confusion and alarm met and eloped, spawning a healthy bouncy baby panic. "…it lands you into SUCH trouble."

Now, THE Tony Stark, (In)Famous Billionaire Extraordinaire, was anything but a prudish man. Modesty was as alien to him as polar bears to the Galapagos.  But fates above, right then and there he wanted to be covered head to foot, enough layers to put an Eskimo to shame in the dead of winter.

Yet again, a violent clatter filled the air as he struggled valiantly, as fingers teased around the scarred seam of his reactor, tapping the glass surface before they trailed inexorably down without a hint of play or intimacy, a quest for something with an impartial vicious intent. And how FAR those deadly supple hands were traveling was damn near throwing the healing man into a second cardiac arrest. With his breath coming in smothered rapid gasps and heart skidding and hammering in growing dread, brown eyes forsook pride to beg with genuine desperation as they stared helplessly for mercy, clemency from those coldly merciless green ones of his midnight visitor.

"Do not give me that look. Now that you have recovered, it is obvious you do not need it any longer." And then a loud SNAP filled the darkened room, making the single light source jostle and cast wild demonic shadows that capered in a devil's dance within the room filled with vague shapes as he jumped at the sound of a latex glove being tugged on, followed by another. However, despite their unnerving squeaky sounds… he KNEW the Nurse was using every trick to dig his fear in a little deeper, purposefully making the sounds and shadow play to make even Hannibal Lecter squirm.

And, damn… was it ever working.

Despite himself, a low whine of anxiety escaped as he came to realize his ANKLES had already been bound as well with zip ties, spread and leaving him utterly defenseless even as his legs tugged helplessly as cold latex hands grasped his manhood with a none too gentle squeeze, capturing his attention utterly and fully.

A soft sigh escaped his tormenter, a soft breeze of a sound of amused annoyance, much akin to the sort when dealing with little problematic children. "If you struggle, you will only bring yourself more pain. Hold still." And when that merciless grip upon his penis tightened, a cruel thumb nudged the catheter nestled within, the gagged genius breathed a faint incoherent sound as he fell still save for the ragged sounds of strained breaths from a chest that heaved with the rush of fear and the effort to keep calm.

With a silent stare, he begged, pleaded with his vicious tormentor, seeking some saving mercy within those Siberia cold green eyes staring back. There was a pause, as if the Nurse considered granting Tony the reprieve he so begged for.

"Try not to scream too loudly."

With an abrupt jerk of that gloved hand, the tormentor yanked sharply and quickly.

Outside of the door, Clint nearly jumped out of his chair as a muffled but discernible wail of blood chilling agony came from behind the door. The archer scrabbled with startled hands to catch his Nintendo 3DS that threatened to make a swan dive to the blue speckled linoleum. The archer turned abruptly to peer to the door with a soft frown, worry and confusion creased between blond brows as he considered entering.

He wasn't sure what he'd be walking in on. Or that he wanted to find out.

However, as the door finally opened a moment later with a soft creak, his tension eased as the Nurse exited, closing the door softly, and looking decidedly relieved in a cathartic manner before that impeccable poker face returned.

Immediately, this raised concern in Clint.

"Hey, Nat, what was that all about? Is Tony ok in there?"

The Black Widow turned with a professional flounce of the crimson curls to look to her long time partner. "Oh, pay him no mind. Tony was just being melodramatic about having his catheter removed." She remarked coolly as the handcuffs were slipped with a discrete flash of silvery metal into a pocket of her scrubs.

"Come on, Clint, it's my break time, and he should be fine for an hour or two. I could use a cup of coffee."

All things considered, Clint knew FAR too well than to turn down the spy's offer.

"Why do I have the feeling that you've just ruined any nurse fantasies that man may have had?"

Demurely, a wickedly sweet , yet small smile greeted the archer from ruby lips.

"He won't compare me to the Hulk ever again."

 

~~~

 

Within the room, Tony was curled into a miserable little ball, wracked with shudders of pain even as his newly reconnected EKG was pattering out the chirps in a tempo that matched 'new age jazz': disjointed and skipping unevenly.

Puffing ragged breaths, he remained in this self protecting position even with his ankles still bound and spread, a humiliating reminder left along with that painful throbbing in Little Tony being cupped between his hands after such cruel suffering at the Wrath of Romanov.

He'd been so focused upon the fierce agony in his loins, he even neglected to remove the humiliating gag, the only sound within him being the roaring of his blood rushing in a pounding pulse in his head.

"My goodness, my Dear Stark, with friends like the sweet Agent Romanov, who needs enemies such as I?"

That smooth cultured voice sheared through the echoed throbbing in his head, a voice Tony wouldn't forget any time soon.

"Mwogmi!!!" Oh hell, that damned gag. Reaching up to tug furiously at the gag, he gasped a grateful breath, licking his dried lips with a parched tongue as his eyes scoured the darkness for this NEW threat. Clearing his throat, he managed to rasp low tersed words, voice husky and strained with pain.

"If you're not here with ice, Loki, fuck off."

As an eldritch green flame burst into being within the sorcerer's hand, it highlighted the regal Asgardian features, eerily calm and laced with amusement as he studied the prone vulnerable man, his enemy, still half bound and veiled only with a blanket, weak and helpless.

He merely strode with a soft whisper of leather to the bed table, plucking the feeble plastic lid off of the styrofoam water decanter to peer to the placid water nestled within the plastic liner bag in the container with the mild curiosity of a cat nosing something new and intriguing.

"Now now, Stark, there is no reason to be vulgar. To kill a prey so obviously still wounded would be truly unbefitting a sportsman." Eyes of a wicked green shifted to Tony, an unfathomable devious intelligence and sly amusement burned them bright in the green and blue illuminated room. Allowing his ball of light to drift in the air like a will-o-wisp, he merely plucked that bag of water from the small pitcher. Loki held it in long fingered elegant hands as if to contemplate it's weight and molecular make up.

"No, I think myself a far more proud hunter than that. I have merely come to converse and see how my prey fares."

Tony, to put it bluntly, was baffled. Not to mention too highly distracted and strung out to ponder the situation properly, but truth be told, after Natasha's recent visit, he'd have to say that the God of Mischief coming without killing intent was a shy shave reassuring in contrast.

But as that pale hand suddenly clenched the bag, the contents shattered abruptly with a hard crunch. The startled engineer stared in confused surprise to the bag of ice the ruthless adversary settled over the sheet covering his aching manhandled manhood. Relief abruptly washed over him in a cold benevolence, and the Avenger could not help but breathe a ragged rather illegal quavered moan at how GOOD that felt to sooth the recent injustice.

"Have a seat…" He waved to the chair beside him, making good on his greeting to the man. If his allies intended to harm him, and his enemies intended nothing violent, he'd cope with the shift in balance. Besides, the damn sorcerer would go wherever he want, regardless. However, as Loki simply seemed to study him intently with a soft low smile, a subtle curiosity and amusement blending, he could only see himself feeling a tad bit odd. Before, in that caustic confrontation that wound up with Tony flung out of his own window of his own tower, the man looked DOWN upon him like a worthless insect biting at his boot.

Now, those enigmatic emerald eyes showed a devious curiosity, like the genius was an entertaining puzzle he wished to take apart completely and solve anew. Somehow, he had to wonder if being a worthless insect would have been a better position in the Trickster's point of view.

"You are looking far better, Stark. Initially, I had thought someone managed to rip your spirit away, leaving a hollow shell behind. How sad it would have been for one of my defeaters to have been destroyed by his own emasculation and withering. My pride would not have been able to stand such a disgrace." The God of Mischief spoke idly, as his fingers laced over his belly, leather rustled with a warm whisper as the tall form sank into the chair with an aristocratic elegance. With elbows perched upon the arms of the chair, the ancient god merely stared contemplatively to the mortal lain upon the bed before him, as vulnerable and splayed as a sacrificial offering to a deity.

That odd subtly morbid notion drew a slow sensually svelte smile upon the Trickster's face, and the good inventor was hardly put at ease. This Loki was too CALM… too certain. He lacked that fevered, almost desperate energy, that he brimmed with the last that they'd met… now he was like someone who detoxed from a particularly nasty addiction, or a person pressed far less by an unknown arbitrating stressor.

Tony wasn't so certain if he should be reassured or wary by this… so he fell upon an old habit. Snarky wit.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to embarrass the crazy guy by being beat by another crazy guy. Who do you see, by the way? I'm thinking about finding a psychiatrist and I'm not the ONLY one looking better here." With a casual wave of his hand, Stark made an idle flippant gesture as a thin aristocratic raven brow lofted on the deity's face. "So, what brings you here, Lokes? Since you're not here to kill me or bring me flowers, I'm guessing it's something OTHER than fussing at me about losing myself for a bit. It's bad enough I'm getting it from Fury and people I know, but it's weird coming from my enemies."

A faint chuckle escaped the regal sorcerer enthroned beside the bed, green eyes danced with amusement as the God of Mischief inclined his head to acknowledge the man's blunt straightforward approach.

"You are, perhaps, familiar with the phrase 'Keep your friends close, and enemies closer'?"

For a long moment Tony stared to the man seated so casually and unsettlingly comfortably beside him, however, as he shifted slightly, grunting as he adjusted the ice so GENEROUSLY granted to his genitals to prevent getting TOO cold as it worked to banish the ache.

"Yeah… but if you get any closer, you're buying me dinner, Pal." Tony groused good naturally, deciding that, for now, keeping their conversation to light banter would be the most productive thing at the moment. What he hadn't expected, was to see the man greatly amused by that remark that was more taunt than an offer.

"Oh my goodness, my dear Iron Man. How flattering of you to propose such a scandalous venture." Reaching up to his leather clad chest, the elegant bastard managed to look slyly coy and theatrically moved. "I am TOUCHED by your interest, but what would your fellow Avengers think? What would your precious little friends think of such a tryst?"

Making a slightly choked sound, Tony squirmed mightily in the bed despite his bound ankles to sit up, settling an uncharacteristically flustered startled glare upon the man whom smirked with unbridled mischief down to him.

"You've GOTTA be fuckin' me." However, as that grin merely quirked wider, and the God of Mischief merely granted a subtle shrug, the Billionaire's jaw dropped as he stared with unabashed shock to the man before him verily prowling over him like a sensual predator.

"Well, if you insist…how can I resist such eagerness?" The EKG chirped merrily swiftly and more loudly, evoking a grand sly grin laden with so much dark amusement and… promise… that a shudder wormed it's vile way down the harrowed inventor's spine as he grabbed his blanket to hug closer to his chest as the self prided playboy flushed a most interest shade of vermillion.

"Colloquialism, Loki! I mean you have to be joking. Cripes, you're just as bad as your…Thor." Mercifully, he caught himself, preventing himself from digging a raw nerve in the man he WANTED to keep placid for Tony's health. Still, those vicious viridian eyes narrowed subtly in a way that made the genius feel paranoia laced caution.

"Oh, I understood perfectly. I merely enjoy watching you squirm."

Silence followed as predator and prey remained utterly still, a tense silence punctuated by the audio evidence of Tony's pulse setting a salsa tempo. For one of those rare moments, Tony Stark was at a loss for words before he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes before the brown hues locked with the trickster's as he rewarded the man with a chastising tone.

"Don't you have ANY boundaries?"

"Oh, boundaries are terribly dull, Mr Stark. YOU, of all people should know." As casual and conversational as a discussion of literature over fine tea, the god merely waved an alabaster long fingered hand in an idle gesture. "After a few centuries of existence, becoming a little adventurous staves off the boredom." 

As realization settled in, the notion of what imaginable… and UNIMAGINABLE things this wild child of Asgard did in his realm hopping days, and such TIME to learn these disturbing things, planted a crop of unwanted seeds in Tony's fertile creative mind. Immediately, his hand reached up to rub his eyes in an effort to prevent sights his imagination would unhelpfully provide from becoming burned upon his mind’s eye.

"No… no… no… we are not going there! This topic is dead, autopsied, burned, and scattered out to the seas. WHY are you here?"

Basking in the man's flustered segue, Loki delighted in how the seemingly shameless mortal was so easily teased. Perhaps it was too soon… or perhaps there were dark little scandalous spots in Iron Manthat  Stark wouldn't wish to admit to? Regardless, he would save such amusing prying for another time. He had another more pressing matter to attend to. "To discuss what you owe me."

"A drink?" The inventor's features drew into a look of mild perplexity.  He couldn't honestly believe a master sorcerer and self proclaimed GOD would be so hard up for alcohol to come to HIM. Especially in a hospital. Maybe he was just craving a little social interaction? That… would be too pathetic to even consider. Master Villains don't get lonely. Do they?

"There IS that drink you owe me, but what I speak of is another matter entirely." However, as blank surprise and suspicious confusion was the only thing to greet the clever Liesmith, he narrowed his eyes shrewdly as he sought an answer… could the man truly not KNOW? But Tony Stark only had a look of suspicious confusion.

"Oh, this is TRULY a delicious surprise." Leather whispered softly, creaked gently as the mad god leaned closer with an avid amusement. "You don't know. You truly have NO idea what you owe me." With the furrowing of the mortal's brows, the God smoothly intervened the snarky snap of words on the tip of Tony's lips, silencing the human with one finger tapped upon the glowing circle nestled within the mortal's chest… his 'heart' so to speak. With a touch upon a part so precious and vital, so sensitive, Tony went utterly still even as his pulse lurched to a rapid pace. But what captured him most by surprise, was the subtle tingling he could feel, a play of strange warmth and ENERGY at Loki's contact to the device of mechanical miracle, and his eyes were drawn helplessly to lock upon this frighteningly intimate contact. "You owe me… this. Or more specifically, because of me, you have this, AND life."

Like a viciously cut thread, Tony's attention snapped from the strange sensation tingling from the finger upon his brightly glowing reactor before his gaze jerked up with a suspicious disbelief, glowering to the Trickster God.

"I'm calling Bullshit on this! Rhody-"

"Came an entire twenty minutes after I returned your precious bauble." The mischief maker smirked with a sinisterly grand amusement as he leaned closer, leather groaned and alien armor clinked against the metal railings protecting the innovator. That blue light cast an eerie cerulean hue to those pale features as the devilish god hungrily devoured the expression of surprise and realization dawned victoriously upon Tony's features.

He remembered. The call. Pepper. The heart attack… pain and loss of control. His car… it had spun out, and he was dying within the safety belts that kept him alive, ironically, for a slower more horrid death than a crash smash. But then, there were those boots, that voice before he'd blacked out completely, and he KNEW that it wasn't a hallucination, now.

"Why?" The word escaped, slightly croaked with his throat feeling raw from stress and anxiety.

"Because for you to die in such a pitiful state, in such a manner would be a grave insult to me, Stark. I want for you to understand this. You will ONLY die by my hands, and in your best state in facing me. I WANT for you to realize that, despite your greatest skill and cunning, you were felled by the hand of a superior god."

Sighing, Tony leaned back into the pillows. This… yes, THIS is Loki, undeniable god complex and all. Somehow, it was reassuring. "Shucks, and here I thought you liked me."

With a calm imperiousness, a raven brow raised with an aristocratic precision. "If I did, would you believe me?"

"Do you?" The inventor retorted with a look that mingled disbelief and uncertain caution.

A faint chuckle eased the solemn countenance. "Do not be absurd. I find you convenient, and amusing, but I feel much the same for a well crafted toy."

"Speaking of toys, how are the ones in your attic?" Tony quipped back with a wolfish smirk in return. The soft frown of subtle confusion the Asgardian Prince bore revealed that… though better than Thor's grasp on Midgardian slang, the sorcerer obviously didn't know everything.

"Asgardian architecture does not have attics in the castle structure." When the mortal DARED to erupt into choked laughter smothered behind his hand, the deity merely narrowed his eyes, ill pleased with being the butt of a jest he didn't comprehend. No, there were more INTERESTING topics to be discussed. And so, with a viperous smile that graced the pale features, the crafty manipulator murmured soft low words that killed the amused human's mirth with a swift merciless precision. "Tell me, had no one spoken to you that I returned your trinket, or kept your heart beating with my magic until your Iron Patriot arrived?"

As the body stiffened upon the bed and brown eyes snapped from mirth to wary sharpness, Loki preened in nestling these small notions in the man's mind… truths as damaging as any lies… if not more so. "Oh? Not your fellow Avengers, the Director of SHIELD? What of your DEAR friend who collected your unconscious body from me? Had he not mentioned that you are bone deep in a life debt with one of your enemies?"

These words… viciously honest and painfully poignant cut into Tony, making him slip from his tension as his mind raced distantly over the information. Fury… hell, he's a spy. THE spy. The Illuminati go to him for lessons on the craft of secrets.

Rhody… well, he's USED to the Colonel being flustered and vexed because of Tony, and the man had always been blessedly frank with him. But, he could see him not wanting to discuss with Tony about the event until the efficient officer had ALL the details and made certain Tony was out of potential harm before discussing it.

He DID notice, though, that Steve, good ol boy red, white, and blue, HAD seemed a bit on edge, protective… really, and he'd been expecting his constant presence of a visitor or two either in the room or by the door, to be to keep him IN.

Just now, Tony Stark realized they were there to keep Loki out… because heaven forbid that Tony would have to strike a deal with the Devil himself.

Oh Hell.

Those rugged proud features drew into a look of grim stubborn determination.

"So I owe you one. Big deal. Don't expect me to put any innocents in danger, or bring my team any harm. And certain tech requests are completely off limits." Well, IF the man felt compelled to hound him on account of some 'debt', then Tony was damn well going to set ground rules.

The Trickster, however, did not seem to be insulted in the least, rather, he seemed to have anticipated such demands. Of course, that merely made the game more of a fun challenge.

"Of course. I would not require anything that may roughen what little moral fiber you may have, Stark." Leaning back finally in the chair, Loki seemed to be grandly amused as he folded his hands primly into his lap, posture straight, yet a bit casual. "You may wish to keep an eye upon the activities of a particular ruling power in Latveria. I have been working with Victor Von Doom. A droll and particularly narcissistic fellow."

"Victor Von Doom? Oh yeah, that's a name that reeks of droll and narcism. Who the hell is he?" Tony inquired, the name just sounding… well… RIDICULOUS. Well, yes, he was Iron Man. That was the name the public gave him, though. The God of Mischief tutted softly as he shook his head in dismay, disturbing the long ebon hair. LONG. It had indeed grown since Tony had last seen the god. That was… odd. To think gods were unchanging, but that little sign of growth made the self proclaimed deity seem more… human.

"For shame, Avenger. You have enemies your team mates have been battling that you are unaware of. It is sad when one of another realm knows more about your own realm than YOU do. May I say, he believes himself to have magic to rival mine, and technology to surpass your creations, however, I digress. While he is entertaining to make mischief with, I find his ambitions stifling and trite. I merely wish to see how far he rises before he destroys himself with his own folly." Tilting his head aside, Loki studied Tony carefully before he remarked with a soft smooth tone like silk draped ever so elegantly. "He desires to have your inventions within his grasp… it would be a shame to see that man so crassly parading the trinkets of my enemies, you see. One set of 'Stark Toys' is enough for me. I'll not have to contend with your devices with him as well."

Quirking an eyebrow, Tony shifted slightly in the bed, eyeing the villain sitting beside him talking about… ANOTHER villain? Wait, was Loki seriously giving away information about his own compatriot? "Thanks for the heads up, I guess, but isn't HE your ally? I mean, isn't there honor among thieves?"

A faint huff of cool amusement escaped the fallen Prince as he rose to stand with a rustle of the leather attire, striding to the end of the bed as he placed his hands upon Tony's exposed bound ankles, fingers cool and laced with a strength despite their elegant sculpt. He could break the bones as easily between his fingers as a person would snap a potato chip. Tony was alert, cautious as he tensed at the action.

"He is nothing more than an insurance of safety in numbers. With so many Avengers, as well as the Ten Rings, Hydra, and soon, from beyond your stars greater enemies shall come, do you honestly think I would be foolish to face them alone?"

"So you hide behind one, while you throw others at each other." With the skill of a man born to rule the public through cunning and charisma, Tony managed to keep his tone calm… even… the words casual even as his eyes lock upon the ornate blade the God of Chaos withdrew from beneath the folds of leather. Rune carved metal gleamed an eerie icy blue in the light of his arc reactor. Like an eerie fantasy enchantment, the norse markings seemed to glow an ephemeral arctic hue within the metal.

"What can I say? Tactics are an essential element to survival." His devilish smirk hitched wider as Tony suddenly jerked with a hissed gasp as the sharp thin edge of metal teased the sole of the inventor's foot in a tickling touch like a sliver of sharp ice. With breath held and toes curled in helpless tension mingled with a convulsing twitch within his foot from having such a ticklishly sensitive spot threatened, he silently hoped with all of his might that the man was serious in wanting Tony's recovery… even if it is to kill the inventor himself.

With a loud whooshed breath of relief, Tony sank back into the uncomfortable deflated mattress of the bed as that deft twitch of the blade left his ankle dropping free of it's binding before the other followed it with a muffled thump.

"Y'know… if you want safety in numbers, preferably without someone stabbing you in the back, why don't you shoot for the protection of the strongest pack?"

Green eyes raised up to stare to Tony before the unpredictable deity of mayhem slunk closer, leaning forward to cage the mortal within the bed with his hands grasped around the metal safety guards. Loki studied the man below him as he hissed low words, equal parts amused and insulted by the brash hint being recklessly presented to him.

"Are you seriously offering for me to join your merry little band? Do you think I give one whit about your miserable little world, or that I could possibly care for you feeble little mortals? Why do you think I orchestrated the invasion the way I did to attack your world?"

''Wow, your eyes really are a unique shade of green. Pretty unforgettable." Tony blurted out bluntly and unabashedly curious as he reached out to his Stark pad to better illuminate the eyes in less of a pale blue shade of his reactor, and more of a natural light. Yes… a VERY unmistakable green. The inventor furrowed his eyebrows slightly, looking downright confused. "Weird that I didn't remember that." However… perhaps it was the light, or the observation, but Loki jerked back with a slight hiss away from the inventor as he furrowed his own brows into a look of disbelief and speculation, long pale fingers absently flit and clenched in an unsettled habit.

"You are remarkably observant for a mortal." Clipped and laced with a cool warning, the words of complement were accompanied by a shrewd look of narrowed eyes and grim contemplation as if a notion greeted the mad sorcerer with a discrete discovery only he would know. Abruptly, he snapped his head up to look to the door before he vanished with a flare of green energy and light, leaving Tony alone within the dimly lit room save for the feeling of something cold and hard by his ankle and a rats nest of confusion saddled upon his chest. He was going to keep quiet for the time being, however… to make heads or tails out of the matter… and not give Fury a reason to take him into custody 'for his own good'.

Straightening the blanket to better cover his chilled feet and that ornate blade left behind, Tony looked to the blond tousled head that popped in through the door followed by the rest of the leather clad man, a rapscallion grin that greeted him from the archer found itself met with a somewhat nervous glare.

"Clint, buddy, your partner is scary as hell. How do you survive being teamed with a crazy sadist like her?"

The archer just grinned with that impish boyish cast, crossing his arms as he took a casual lean against the door frame. "By being a masochist."

"You're kidding me… right? Please tell me that's a joke, because I'm fresh out of brain bleach. And is it REALLY safe to be joking about the Black Widow?"

Clint merely bore a devious smirk as he tilted his head aside slightly.

"As the purpose of comedy is to correct the vices of men, I see no reason why anyone should be exempt."

A pregnant pause ensued.

"Clint, good buddy, I'd say Natasha could correct a Vice out of the Devil himself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> New And Improved Formula! Or a fixed old one. Revision magic, yay!
> 
> To everyone who read my earlier chapters, gave kudos, and particularly you lovelies who left comments, you are wonderful! I'm greatly appreciative that you take time to read my work, and if you're enjoying it, that makes me one happy duck!
> 
> First things first, I'm still looking for a Beta to help me proof and edit. Any help at all would be greatly appreciated! And now, for my points:
> 
> 1\. The Bonus Points of today go to Petreska! Clark Gregg played the Ex husband in "The New Adventures of Old Christine", a sitcom that was really amusing. I don't know why, but I keep picturing Coulson having a secret past with an exwife and odd humorous situations to contend with due to her neurosis. It's what would make him so good to handle the Avengers, a trail mix of fruits, nuts, and confusion.
> 
> 2\. I have another bit of TRIVIA fun! Nestled within this chapter is a quote, and a very thoughtful one. I'll give you three hints. What was the quote and tell me who wrote this?  
> -Playwrite  
> -It had been said in his defense when one of his plays was deemed 'blasphemous' by his country's ruling church.  
> -Satire
> 
> 3\. I apologize for taking a bit of time in getting this chapter up... between finals, holiday mayhem, and going on the road to visit dear friends and enjoying the happy highway, I haven't had much time to write. With that over, I should have more time to continue building the story.
> 
> 4\. All feedback is appreciated, including constructive criticism, and I adore all of you who left comments! While I have a plan for the chapters, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to hear ideas or speculations.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another.
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	4. Four for a Boy (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in this exciting episode of 'One For Sorrow'? Let's take a look!
> 
> Nick Fury and Tony Stark have a heart to heart, and the discussion of a growing threat comes to light. Tony is visited by a face from his past, and the questions that are asked are numerous and painful. And furthermore, Tony finds freedom from the hospital once more, and he hitches a ride on the Bus, meeting the resident agents, and meets Lola for the first time.
> 
> Best of all, the magpie finally gets a name!
> 
> I thank everyone who's been patient with me. This chapter was a little slower coming out because I was working on the side story "The Tender Kiss of Judas" (Coulson and Loki, and a lot of mayhem), and beginning school. This chapter is pretty long, so pack a lunch, grab a coffee, and have fun reading!

The beautiful thing about corvids… or birds of the raven family Tony had come to learn… is that they were astonishingly smart. Well, sure, he'd seen videos of the dark feathered avian critters tormenting everything from eagles to fishermen with cunning tricks and there's no shortage of YouTube videos that showed the clever stunts and grasps of logic and machinery… even bartering… that they could perform.

And so, as Tony Stark endured this tail end of his stay in the hospital, awaiting for his discharge papers to be finished for the next morning's release, the Inventor found himself increasingly appreciating the bird… and he KNEW it's the same feathered friend that constantly visited him. Even if it's a Magpie that's cunning enough to know how to sass him without words, and even if it seemed to only like him for his food and to taunt his misery, he'd grown fond of his feathered compatriot. If anything, the engineer had been finding the clever bird useful.

Such as, at that moment, helping him to tackle one of the boxes of mail he'd received from his well wishers, ranging from military veterans older than himself, to eager kids who drew their crude but heartfelt sentiments in bright colors on paper. He'd already tackled two boxes, and while there may have been a few letters that almost kidnapped him down the PTSD pathway, he found himself buoyant, his tattered shriveled ego reinvigorated with the affections and attention from so many.

He didn't know. He DIDN'T KNOW that there were so many people who looked up to him, appreciate him, were inspired by him, and were intrigued in more than his money, power, or playboy reputation. How could he possibly have missed ALL of this in his white picket fantasy? He's Tony Fuckin' Stark, and people LOVED him!

Oh, admittedly, there were a few critics in the lot, always were, but he found those letters amusing, or perfect for putting his sunflower seed shells on.

The man who refused to claim himself a hero was smiling, a warm soft fondness eased his face and warmed those mocha toned eyes as he perused the haphazard scrawls of a little girl named Sue Miller. With atrocious spelling in craggily marked red crayon on a paper, he couldn't help but find the get well soon sentiment quaintly charming, backwards letters and all.

"Y'know… for all the money people pay shrinks to solve their problems… maybe someone should start up a kid pen pal service. I think the bright colors do a hell of a lot more for cheering up than any pill." Tapping a brief reply note into the Stark Pad in his lap with a dancing flit of fleet fingers, he set JARVIS to track the mailing address to an e-mail for a reply for the child's parent. Folding the note, he slipped it into the 'completed' box before the fluttering rustle of feathers greeted him as his magpie plucked the next letter to deliver to Tony, dropping it into his lap to collect the sunflower seed offered in return, and even took an enjoyment to the grateful rub to the feathery breast.

"Thanks, buddy… saves me a trip. Now… let's see what we have here…"

Before the chocolate eyes could train upon the page, however, the tell tale sound of squeaking wheels approached the room and both man and bird perked, alert with a Pavlovian response to a sound that could only mean one thing.

The lunch trolley. Or more specifically… a lovely nurse pushing said trolley. And, as had become almost ritual, as of late, Tony glanced to the bird… and immediately the Magpie cocked it's head… listening to the subtle muffled sounds outside the door. Seemingly intently focused upon it's observation, the bird turned it's attention to the human who finally broke the silence with a question. A challenge.

"Well?"

And immediately, the bird rose to pluck a twenty dollar bill from a jar near the bed before setting it face down upon Tony's lap.

"Really? You think it's a hag? Well, I'm betting on a hottie. With light steps and the faintest hint of Private Collection? Gotta be that cutie with the China doll bob." When the bird merely croaked a rather balking sound, he scoffed back with a huff and crossed his arms proudly over his Led Zeppelin shirt clad chest before replying with grim persistence. "My Stark senses are tingling."

And so he placed his bill upon the bed…  head side up, and grinned with an impishly manic delight before both bird and playboy raised avid attentive eyes to the door. Briefly, there was a pause, a low murmur of voices… doubtlessly whoever's standing guard… then the door creaked open with the rhythmic squeaking of the wheels, accompanied by a rustle.

"Heeeelllooo Nur-" The word died into a horrified choke deep in Tony's throat, lascivious notions shattered as he was greeted by a dark eye… a forbidding dark eye. A SINGLE forbidding dark eye. Equally as dark and forbidding as the face it sat within. "Ugh… anyone ever tell you, you're the antiboner?"

And as the bird trilled triumphantly as it landed in Tony's lap to stand possessively over the bills, Director Fury settled the pair the most withering of looks, spiced with a profound dash of disbelief. The eccentric narcissistic genius, he thought, was bad enough… but now he was coming to realize that Stark's found an animal just as bad as he was. Fury didn't know that was even possible. And as the bird seemed to take a triumphant stance on actual money… forty dollars in winnings, obviously… the spy could not help but find himself momentarily stunned at the scene that warred for place of ridiculous or impossible.

"Stark, are you making wagers with a fuckin' dumb BIRD? And LOSING?!"

Like a super villain in a classic Bond movie, Tony pet his black and white feathered cohort in mischief, seeking to mirror that wicked devil's grin he'd seen on the Trickster's face, and delighted in the unsettled annoyed look that pinched the Director of SHIELD's face.

"He doesn't appreciate our genius, does he? Oh no, he doesn't. That could be…" Tony paused…savoring the moment before he purred the word with a mischievous delight in his act. "…disastrous."

"Damnit, Stark! Knock it off! It's fuckin' creepy as hell… and what the hell is up with the bird? Is it a pet? Don't tell me you have a name for it." Leaving the cart sitting half way into the room, the spy stalked closer to the inventor who sat cross legged in the bed. Tony simply granted the bird a light pat to the back before it took wing to carry its winnings to its jar beside the bed.

"What? The bird's smarter than some of my past employees… and works, literally, for peanuts. Though, I don't know about me keeping him… it's more of if he chooses to keep me. He can leave any time he wants, y'know." Pausing, he peered to the bird rifling through the bills… was it COUNTING it's winnings? Was that even possible? Still, the billionaire figured… hey, if anyone would have a top of the line bird, it'd be Tony Stark. "You've a good point, though, I do need to pick a name for him. Something fitting, since I'm going to see if he'll come back with me, I can't just keep calling him 'you'. I already have a 'U' and that'll get confusing. And 'bird' is too generic."

With a low soft hum of thought, Tony rubbed his chin, before he leaned back as the creature fluttered to his side before walking up to his shoulder, deliberately staring to the spy in mocking challenge.

"I dunno, but, this damn bird just pisses me off, Tony. I feel like it's laughing at me."

"If it's any consolation, I laugh at you all the time…" With oozing deliberate concern in his voice, Stark took an obvious stab at theatrical sympathy, but when the bird made a suspiciously laugh-like series of caws, Tony couldn’t help but grin grandly, vastly amused by his bird and its capacity to irritate Nick Fury.

'Irritated', of course, was a rather mild word to describe the deadly man at the moment, as his hand itched terribly to pluck his gun out of his holster and shoot the annoying avian in a puff of violence and feathers. Such satisfaction, however, would have to be sadly withheld.

"It annoys me almost as much as Thor's batshit crazy little brother…"

"Loki?" Tony blinked, finding this rising rile in the demanding merciless man vastly amusing. And to compare the bird to the one person that ruffled Nick Fury's feathers more than anything…

"ROKI!!!"

It was just too perfect.

"Roki roki roki..."

A long silence settled between the two men as they simply stared to the bird that seemed to have latched to the name, repeating it like a trained parrot that proudly picked up a curse word.

"Stark… I fuckin' hate that bird. You are not…"

"Lil' guy… I'm totally going to call you Loki!"

Offering a dried apricot to the bird in reward as it proudly repeated it's name… Tony simply grinned as it greedily grabbed it's prize in the sharp black beak before swooping tauntingly close to the spy's head before it exited via the open window.

Loudly, the door clicked closed, concealing the pair within in their privacy most profound. With a weary sigh, the swarthy skinned man moved in a leathery rustle to drop into the seat beside the inventor, that dark eye shifted to settle upon the boxes of letters and mail before returning to the Avenger who looked nearly back to his old self. That harsh cast eased from the gruff man's features before he folded his arms with a whispered creak of his coat.

"As much as you seem to love pissing in my Cheerios, Tony… I wouldn't trade this for that spineless thing you were when you were first brought in here. And it's a good thing that you're getting back to your old assholic self."

Tony. Fury NEVER called Tony by his first name. It was too personal… too honest. The Spy preferred keeping others at a distance… but somehow, their little motley crew had been growing closer.

"Oh, good… was hoping you wouldn't ship me off to Tahiti or anything. Coulson says I probably wouldn't like it." The Master Spy… twitched. Well, it was nothing more save for a tick of his eye, a subtle purse of his lips that could have been easily unnoticed by most… but Tony made sport out of getting a rise out of the man. He mastered 'Fury watching' all the way from 'slight irritation' to 'chain-expletive shouting rage'. This… it wasn't anything of the usual sort of emotions Tony tended to inspire in the Director. It was an EDGE. A sharp secret that the tighter he held into it, the more pain it would bring him.

Tahiti meant SOMETHING. And that something, he'd have to learn.

"Believe me when I say, I'd do anything in my power to prevent you from going to Tahiti." With a wry smirk masking most expertly, the man spoke an additional comical tidbit to bury that grim unease. "The Tahitians would ban you from their shores."

With lips pursed and studying Fury, the acerbic remarks, habitual snark and urge to dig into those subtle wounds were banished to the outskirts as Tony simply shared Fury a grand smile as he hopped down from the bed and moved to the food cart as he began peering into dishes on the tray, digging within a duffel beside the bed for condiments. "Speaking of 'tortured by tranquility', I have the feeling my 'honor guard guests' are here for more than comradely support… and more than to keep me from escaping before my care's over."

Liberally doctoring up the brown sauced lump of so-called beef patty and bleakly boiled vegetables upon the pastel plastic plate, Tony carried the tray to the side of his bed to sit cross-legged as he casually began cutting the chunks into smaller pieces.

"I'm guessing you've been having the rest of my team making sure no one ELSE gets in. Otherwise, everyone wouldn't be fussing at me about leaving the damn window open."

Begrudgingly, the older man simply watched the ease of care Tony was applying to cutting and casually eating the food, treating the topic much the same.

"It's funny you should name that dumb bird after Loki. We know that for SOME reason, he kept you alive, even RETURNED your reactor. By all means, you should be six feet under by now. We want to know WHY he spared you."

Raising his head to look to the grim man, Tony chewed absently as his hand absently reached up to rake his fingers through the unruly dark locks, pondering the question. Finally swallowing, he could present an answer.

"Pride. Big bad god gets taken down by human…. and that human goes all domestic wimpy and almost dies from it? Guess it was kind of a slap to his face. That macho villain 'adversary can only die by my hands' sort of thing." With his shoulders lifted slightly, Tony continued eating without a care, however he did admit, finally, ruefully. "Yeah, I don't think he liked the old 'new me' any more than you did. Maybe he just missed my dazzling personality?"

That winning smile, brilliant with cocksure attitude and mischievous boldness earned a grand roll of the singular eye as Fury settled a wry look to Tony, eased into a comfortable banter of  tart remarks and wry retorts.

"Oh, yeah, you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine we all missed."

"Really, Nicky? I'm touched! Tell you what, I'll make you some cookies…"

"Oh HELL no! I heard from Pepper… I'm not going down by food poisoning from your damn cookin'!"

With the injured look upon the genius' features, the veritable kicked puppy look with lower lip strategically jutted in that petulant pout accompanied by soulful brown eyes, the cantankerous shell cracked on the spy, and he laughed, a low rich sound as he dropped his face in his hand, unable to resist the mirth and that brewed within him. But he sobered swiftly as he watched the Genius begin lining up peas along his knife to roll them into his mouth.

"Damnit, Stark! We are worried that he'll come back for some sort of payment for sparing your life. What he's going to want, that's a question we can't answer, and frankly… with your mind, it's terrifying for us to consider what he could WANT for you to make."

With a low breathed grunt, the recovering hero chased a viciously artificial looking orange carrot medallion around on his plate like a greased hockey puck: always eluding his fork like the capricious trickster in discussion. "Cool your jets. Genius can't be forced… not if it's as stubborn as mine. I totally promise not to make Pandora's Box, ok? Let's try thinking on this one. Well, what's he been up to?"

"Very little, actually, and that's what concerns us." Tony paused as he caught the carrot upon his fork, looking up to the man in the seat beside him. Concern drew his lips into a slight grimace as he considered what this could mean. "In fact, the last any had seen from him, had been your 'rescue'. That means he's preparing something."

"Or he's hiding from something or someONE." Tony finished as he pondered his own private conversation with the God of Chaos. Raising his head, he jerked to a sudden awareness, the carrot slipping with a dismal plop to the plate before earning a burning glare from the incensed inventor. "Hey, is there REALLY a 'Dr. Victor Von Doom', or is the grapevine pulling my leg?"

By the stiffness that turned the dark figure as rigid as an obsidian statue, Tony knew he'd hit pay dirt. But… oh, sakes alive… that NAME.

"You gotta be kidding me, Nicky… Victor Von Doom… he sounds like a cheesy comic book villain."

"You better take him seriously, Stark. He's actually rising along with the Ten Rings and Centipede for trouble. Dr. Doom… is a reigning figure in Latveria… however, he combines technological skills AND magic."

"Wait… technological skills… he better not be trying to step into MY market…" Finally refusing to let the carrot play it's games further, the engineer plucked it up with his own fingers and dropped it into his mouth before he wiped the sauce away on the stiff paper napkin.

"Like your gig, Stark, but not nearly on the level of yours, and not nearly on Loki's level of magic…"

"But enough of both to be a royal pain in the ass for everyone. No way… that's really not cool." And now he could see why Loki would crave to have a 'debt owed' from Tony Stark… or Iron Man. If things turn wrong with the Latverian… he'd need a safety net to help protect himself from becoming the man's target. That sneaky little bastard.

For a long moment, Tony remained silent, cautious in the information he was putting together. And he didn't bother asking the Director of SHIELD why it hadn't been mentioned to him before… between his 'social melt down' and his recent heart condition… it was utterly understandable. Even if irritating.

"You mentioned Tech… what has Dr. Demento made?"

For a long moment, Nick Fury stared Tony Stark dead in the eye, weighing a vast importance, a heavy burden of seriousness of the situation upon the inventor. This was an adversary that could start World War III… could bring countless deaths and unspeakable destruction. He must be taken seriously.

"Doombots."

Immediately, the somber silence was destroyed by a spluttered spurt of a poorly contained laugh before finally Tony leaned back, laughing heartily, uproariously at the term.

"Oh man! That's RICH!!! Haha! Doombots! Are they descended from the Decepticons? Should we be finding Autobots?!" And this outrageous mirth was precisely why Fury dreaded bringing such serious topics up with the man. It wasn't JUST the irreverence that Tony Stark handled most matters, ruining the seriousness of them.

It's that it REALLY made it harder for the director himself to take these subjects in a serious light, himself. Then again, by trivializing something, Stark had a knack for finding the weak points.

Like a viper springing to strike, the spy rose with a sudden powerful twist from the chair, gun drawn with a fluid blinding motion to aim to the couch, his eye narrowed with a shrewd deadly aim and a ruthless precision.

"I know you're there. Raise your hands where I can see them, then slowly rise where I can see you."

Fighting back the urge to drop forth several colorful metaphors in regards to this sudden defensive action on the part of the SHIELD director, Tony, however, made no word as he pulled himself over in a swift nimble roll to land beside the battle hardened, trigger ready man in a crouch to be out of range, and yet, peeked over the top of the bed to the couch.

As a pair of pale hands presented themselves, rising like twin periscopes from past the sofa, slowly, the remainder of the figure rose carefully, staring to the rather imposing sight of a gun, round chambered and safety off, taking a bead upon the presented head. The sight of the intruder, however, drew a blink of shock and confusion from the trained gunman.

"What the fuck is THAT?"

"Congratulations, Inspector Clouseau, it's a boy." Exhaling a terse breath, as the wide blue eyes of the young boy pried themselves from the ominous dark mouth of the gun to Tony, the inventor reached up with a groan as he rose to rub a hand over his face with mingled frustration and relief, his other rubbing over his sore chest. "Harley, what the heck are you doing here?"

"I came to visit you, Tony! When I saw on your fan blog page that you had a bad accident, I had to make sure you're ok. I hadn't heard from you in a while… so I got pretty worried." 

Reaching out to press down on the assassin's arm to lower that lethal aim, Tony shook his head slowly before he gave the lad an incredulous look. As the genius settled himself to sit upon the bed, he gestured from the assassin to the boy.

"All right, time for awkwardness control. Nick, meet Harley Keener, this wonder kid helped save my life and helped me battle the Mandarin. He's not a threat… and actually a bright kid. Tolerable, too, for a shortstack. Harley… meet Nick Fury… Director of SHIELD and an all around sneaky guy."

As the boy rounded the couch, eyeing solemnly up to the spy, Fury furrowed his brows, and remembered the report well from that altercation… and the catalyst it had been in Iron Man's decline. Until he saw it with his own eye, though, he could never find himself capable of imagining Tony Stark buddying with a kid. Until now.

With an audible click, the marksman flicked the safety on and holstered the firearm with a low grunt as he eyed the boy who'd obviously heard more than he should have. The engineer, however, seemed to trust the boy. It's a dangerous gamble to make, but honestly… it was probably one best made.

"So you do stuff with the Avengers?"

"I give orders and missions to the Avengers."

The sound of amused derision escaping Tony earned a warning look from the spy. Oh, he didn't need to refute Fury's claim, or deny it. He had MUCH better means of getting even with the domineering spy. "So, do you have any questions for Boss-man, Kid?"

And when Harley drew a deep breath, the mischievous engineer knew he'd opened a brutal box of chaos upon the spy.

"Did you lose your eye in a battle? How long have you known Tony? Does he really do what you say? Do you ask Pepper to tell Tony to do stuff? Who wins in an argument, you or Pepper? How come the Avengers didn't come to help Tony when the Mandarin was going after him? Do you think Dr. Doom is going to try to go after Tony for his stuff? Am I making this awkward? Are my questions bothering you?"

"DAMN, KID! Give me a fuckin' minute to answer!" Fury barked with a snapped patience, verily flushing darker and making the smug Avenger simply grin like the Cheshire cat. Later, on hindsight, the Kid could be considered a phenomenal means of interrogation… but for the time being, it was a brittle experience.

"It sucks when it happens to you, but I gotta admit, it's pretty funny seeing the kid do it to someone else. And language, my cycloptic colleague. Minors present." Reaching out to ruffle the sandy blond hair with a casually cocky grin, the billionaire held up a bowl and a spoon to the boy. "Just for that, you can have my pudding." As the wonder kid industriously attacked the bowl, Tony could not help but bask in amusement as the spy began marshaling his thoughts to begin responding.

"All right, you tiny terror, straight from the top. Classified. Longer than I want to. Heeeeeeck no. Yes. I try not to keep score. We were fighting off another group that was ALSO targeting Mr. Stark, we just didn't have the manpower to be wherever he WAS, too. Now that you mention it, Doom HAS had an interest in targeting Stark to battle, before… so I'll take your point into consideration. Yes. And YES." 

Drawing a deep breath after the barrage of answers, he merely rewarded Tony's impressed applause at the end with a scathing look. "What I want to know, is how you knew where to find Mr. Stark, Harley. All his fan mail goes THROUGH his company's general Stark receiving address. No one save select medical staff, the Avengers, and SHIELD know what room Mr Stark is in. What I want to know… is how YOU managed to find what room he is in, much less WHAT hospital. Don't tell me you're some wonder hacker kid."

Humming softly, the boy simply shrugged as he withdrew his Stark Phone, an odd looking device plugged into it captured the inventor's eye and curiosity. Sitting up further and perked like a curious dog, Tony watched as the kid moved the device around, then began digging around in one of the boxes. "Nah, I just did something easier. Managed to make a tracker and followed it here. Just stronger and tied in through my phone. Oh, here we go! Huh, looks like you didn't get to open my letter, yet. That's a shame, Tony, but it looks like you're kinda backlogged." As he held out the envelope to Tony with a grand smile, the older man collected it with a shameless grin, tearing the envelope open eagerly.

A soft frown, however, marred Fury's features, something seeming odd about this statement of the boy's. "His mail had been scanned for electronic devices or potential bugs."

With a nod, the boy grinned grandly, watching as the manic engineer plucked out a bracelet with a tooled leather band and in the center, an aluminum adornment in the shape and design of his arc reactor.

"Oh, that's easy, Mr Fury. I wasn't tracking any electrical device. I figured his stuff would be screened for that, anyhow."

"DIBS!" Tony announced, peering to the  bracelet, savoring the look of annoyed confusion adorning the dusky features of the super spy.

"Dibs? What the… heck… Stark, you're not a child! And Dibs on WHAT, exactly?"

"Dibs on sales and rights usage on whatever Harley here had invented. You don't mind going through Stark Industries for your patent, eh, Kid? So, spill. Tell me what you did."

Verily glowing with the interest in his handiwork, the kid began eating the chocolate pudding with delight. "Well, yeah, when I get it worked out, I wanted to go through you to produce it. As for how I track it… Easy! I made a specialized Aluminum isotope and I created this sensor attached to my phone."

Silence settled in the room before Tony remarked unabashedly with a deeply thoughtful look. "That's actually pretty freakin' sly. And you bet I'm going to want to put a bid on production rights for this. How did you get it to track the isotope from such a distance on such a small device not tied to satellites?"

"That's the trick. The isotope emission 'signal' would resonate and amplify because of your reactor. But, yeah… if there were satellites or more powerful sensors, you could track things pretty easily far away."

And immediately Tony could see Fury's thoughts churning, twisting swiftly to make it an invaluable tool in SHIELD business. Served him right to have to go through his company to get usage rights or products. The quiet, however, was disturbed by the low chirped sound of Fury's phone. With but a glance, he bore a low frown to the message sent before a worried grimness etched into the dark features. "Well, that's just peachy. It looks like I have something to wrap up. The Bus will be here for you tomorrow, Stark. Don't give any of the Agents any grief."

"Sure thing, Dad. Tell 'Mom' hi for me!"The remark earned an irreverent snort from the marksman.

"You can tell Coulson that yourself. I'm not your friggin' messaging service." And without another word, the deadly spy stalked out of the room, leaving the boy and the Avenger alone. After an awkward moment, Tony tugged on his bracelet, grinning grandly in appreciation.

"Well, that's going to be something worth writing about but… you know… spy stuff… can't write about that. So, how's school?"

Setting the bowl and the spoon upon the tray, the kid hopped up to sit beside Tony. "Well… you know those bullies?"

"Yeah?"

"They think I'm the coolest kid in school because I know Iron Man."

Humming to himself, Tony looks thoughtful.

"Wanna know a secret, Harley?"

"What?"

"Being cool isn't about who you know. It's about doing amazing things. And you? You're the coolest kid I know."

"When I grow up, I want to be like you, Tony." The boy admitted softly before he moved to sit beside the inventor, tilting his head back to peer to the older man with a shrewd thoughtfulness. And then he smiled softly, an unabashed affection for the caustically glib genius that softened the brittle armor the man usually wore. Reaching out his arm to embrace the boy's shoulder, Tony provided a comradely hug to the boy who still had faith in him despite his many many flaws.

"Kid, to tell you the truth, I wouldn't want to wish being me on my worst enemy. It's pretty lousy. How about I help you become you as a successful inventor? I'll teach you how to avoid board meetings, find a great personal assistant to handle the paperwork, how to keep groups like SHIELD from stealing your stuff. And how to keep a straight face when you’re talking to a guy wearing brightly spangled spandex."

And like an awkward dam that broke they laughed, mirth a warm pleasantness settling between them like a balm to soothed their ills.

"So, for school, I'm working on this report, right? They want us to write about something from the Battle of New York."

"Lemme guess, you want to write about my suit? Good idea coming to the source… can't give away any secrets, though."

With a low huffed breath, the boy shook his head. "Nah, tons of kids are writing about your suite. I want to do something different, you know? I want to challenge myself, really think. I want to write about Loki."

A tense tingle speared down Tony's spine as he stared to the lad. "Why the he…uh…heck would you want to write about that Asgardian Asshole?" And no matter how he tried, he just couldn’t seem to shake the colorful metaphors with the frustrating villain.

"Because I want to figure out WHY he did it. Also… some of the things don't seem right about the fight. I kinda don't think he really wanted to win that fight."

A flat disbelieving look settled upon the boy as Tony crossed his arms over his chest, brows furrowed into consternated thought.

"All right, spill. I gotta hear this."

Reaching to rustle around within his backpack, the boy produced his Stark pad and immediately began pulling up the aerial view of the city right after the battle.

"Well, after doing some research… I realized that he targeted a CENTRAL area. I mean, yeah, those aliens…"

"Chitauri. It's a space word for 'ugly alien', I think."

"…Chitauri, thanks… were LED into a pattern to assault concentrically… see… if you follow THIS line of destruction, and this… and this of attack… see? He also didn't target any utilities or vital city centers, keeping to mostly open spaces and easily evacuated areas."

Slowly, dark brows raised as Tony began to absorb the paths of destruction. It just looked like messy chaos to him before. And being IN it, further hampered his perspective. But… yes. It's as if the invading forces were being looped back around to strike a central area. "Self contained into a limited area. Huh. We did notice that the damage and body count were surprising small for a deadly alien invasion. We just figured he was a crappy planner."

"Seriously? Loki? Trickster? He's, how old? Thor's bio says he's over 2000, and if Loki's his brother…"

"Hey, where are you getting this info?!"

"Somewhere between the collectable toys and the Rising Tide. What? I was really interested in what you went through. So, anyway… in over two millennia, this guy who's supposed to be a really smart guy comes up with the stupidest attack plan? Really? So I began to think that maybe… MAYBE, he didn't want for them to win. Maybe he was using you… the Avengers…"

"To fight his battle for him. Without the Chitauri knowing that he's double crossing them…" Tony began to piece together the boy's observation, a boy… mind you, with HARDLY any of the private info, and was able to look at what information he DID gather with an unclouded eye. "He also LET us capture him. He goaded us, drove us against each other’s weaknesses… and then triggered the very thing to bring us together against HIM. That sneaky son of a-" Like an assassin's dagger, solitary slow clapping within the room struck through his sentence, killing it mercilessly before he could complete it. Tony realized that… if Harley wasn't clapping, and he sure as hell wasn't, then that meant…

"Bravo, Bravo… quite excellent deduction work, Little One." And there, sitting as if ensconced upon a throne, sat Loki within the chair by the bed, painted with a positively devilish delight. Clad in merely his leathers, lacking the armor and especially that gleaming horned helm, the vicious viper of a sorcerer seemed to be rather casually equipped to be sitting in upon an enemy. As those vivid green eyes that danced with wicked mirth fell upon the gaping boy and alert Avenger, his smile only widened.

"Well, now, it has been quite some time, Mr. Stark. Are you feeling better? Midgard is rather boring without your antics."

Much to Loki's further amusement, Tony moved subtly to shield the boy from the deadly villain, although, like a curious groundhog, Harley popped his head up over Tony's shoulder to peer to the casually sitting man within the chair.

"How come you're here? Are you here to rip Tony's head off? Carve your name into his skin?"

"Kid…"

"KIll him as a warning to the other Avengers in some big way?"

"Harley…"

"Or maybe you want his arc reactor to power some ancient arcane device?"

"DAMNIT HARLEY!" The edgy inventor nearly exploded in tense agitation, turning slightly to glare to the boy who stopped with an innocent blink before Tony hissed in a low tone. "Don't give him ideas!"

However, a rich laugh followed these less than pleasant questions, and both humans turn to look to the vastly amused god before a long fingered hand gestured gracefully, a casually imperial dismissal of such morbid musings.

"Ah! I can only imagine the rumors that abound about me! But, alas, no. I am curious why my name should be spoken so many times."

"Fuckin' Beetlejuice syndrome!" The inventor groused before muttering something along the lines about not speaking the man's name three times.

"Tony, language." Harley gently chided the annoyed inventor before he squinted slightly to shrewdly study the impossibly tall man before him, looking nothing like the images and video that floated on the internet. He didn't look nearly so crazed, and seemed to be almost… content… at the moment. "So you're not going to harm Tony?"

"It would be insulting to my pride to assail an adversary when he is weakened or ill. I prefer to battle Iron Man in his fullest capacity. I may tease Mr. Stark… however, because it amuses me."

"You're a really queer villain, you know that?" The boy remarked with a slight tilt of his head, puzzling the strange man before him.

"LIke a three dollar bill, he is."

"I suppose you could say that I am." Loki began to drawl lazily, considering the description before continuing smoothly, gracefully ignoring the snort of amusement from the inventor. "I take pride in being genuinely unique and unusual."

For a long moment, Tony stared to the God of Mischief… realizing that, perhaps, the Asgardian, with all of his Shakesperian upbringing, wasn't quite up to date with modern American vernacular. While smarter and better studied in modern Earth than Thor, there's still that delicious cultural gap that begged to be exploited.

Mercifully, for the sake of the moment, Harley slipped from around Tony to sit on the edge of the bed, curiosity having drawn him closer to the rather cordial and well-mannered villain.

"So, not sure how much you heard me tell Tony, but my class is writing reports on the Battle of New York, and I wanted to write one on you. Do you think I can ask for an interview? All we have are the news clippings and stuff on the Internet. I kinda want to hear your side of things."

Rather than offended, this seemed to take the Aesir mildly by surprise. Straightening a bit in his seat, Loki appeared to gravely ponder this request from the mortal boy as he absently tapped long steepled fingers against his lips. "Very well. This will provide an amusing distraction, and I am curious about what you have deduced, little mortal whelp."

"Harley… his name is Harley, Loki." Tony breathed a low sigh before he reached out to collect the boy's Stark Pad before he began tapping away at it, holding it up before he nodded to the lad. "Go ahead and sit in that other chair, Kid, I'll film it because I don't think your teachers are going to believe you if you have it written down you had an interview with Reindeer Games here. And Loki… don't say I didn't warn you about the kid and his questions. Don't let his innocent kid facade fool you. He draws blood with his curiosity."

"I can only imagine." Mused the fallen prince as the boy pulled a chair closer to the leather clad man. The boy showed a bold bravery and a near suicidal curiosity that certainly made Tony equal parts nervous and proud. Turning on the recording function, he began capturing his own face. "Kid… don't get too close, I don't want for him to bite you, and I don't know if he has space rabies or galactic crabs or something."

"I assure you, Stark, that I agree to a peaceable truce for this amusing interview. Besides, the boy has far less to be concerned from me than you do." Thank goodness the camera hadn't captured the positively illegal looking wicked expression gracing the trickster's face, though, it did catch the slightly surprised wary look upon the inventor's own face.

"Is that a threat, Rudolph?"

"You DO owe me that drink. But, no. A promise."

"How the heck DID we get you here in the first place? My mind's still trying to wrap around that."

"When someone speaks my name enough times… I most likely will hear. Besides, this seems to be an amusingly novel request, how can I refuse a polite interview?"

"Right, right. Well, security breaches aside… let's start this circus. Hi… this is Tony Stark. You all probably know me as Iron Man. Never mind my scruffy appearance, right now… I'm just playing guardian and witness to this interview between Harley and Loki, the god of Mischief, Lies, Chaos, Reindeer, Leather, and Self Invited Unannounced Entrances." With a tap of a button, the pad switched to the other camera. The elementary school kid and the man of nightmare and notoriety sat together in the chairs set up like a morning show interview session. With his fingers laced easily before him, elbows resting upon the arms of the chair, Loki looked less of a murderer of madness and more like a posh British actor.

"Mr. Loki… do you REALLY want to rule this world? Because, if you are, you're really not putting your heart into it."

And with guns a blazing with rounds of painful awkward brutal curiosity, Tony couldn't help but grin. Oh yes. He warned Loki.

 

~~~

 

The Bus.

Tony decided, the second he saw it, and the interior, he liked it. Far more, by leaps and bounds, than the Helicarrier.

From the moment he walked up the loading ramp, magpie on his shoulder, case in hand, and removing his shades to peer within the artificially lit dark painted space, he bore a grand grin to the man who stood before him clad in a suit and smiling with a winsome warm pride. Agent Coulson spread his arms wide as he gestured within the cargo bay, the glass rooms and obviously modern and efficient spaces leading further into the super plane.

"Well, what do you think, Mr. Stark?"

"Me Likey. But seriously… this is one hell of a Bus." Turning slightly, he peered to the beautifully kept vintage ruby red Corvette. As he nearly reached his hand out to appreciatively touch the gleaming curves, the grim faced 'soldier'… Ward… brushed past, carrying a stacked pair of Tony's mail boxes in his arms and grunting low words of warning as he stalked by. "Don't touch Lola. No one touches Lola."

"Mr. Stark can touch Lola, Ward. He's probably one of the few I can trust to appreciate her." Coulson smiled as Tony grinned grandly like a kid enamored by an animal in the zoo.

"C'mon, Phil… it's just Tony. But, yeah, gotta say, she's a beaut. Promise me I can give her a tune-up some time… I'm sure she'd love hanging with my kids."

"I'll have to take you up on that offer later. So… let me give you the tour while the kids prep for the trip. You've met Ward."

Stepping forward to match paces with the senior Agent, Tony pointed to where the discussed man had disappeared. "Yeah…I wanted to ask, is he cloned from Steve's DNA? Because… I swear, there's a creepy amount of similarity between the two."

Breathing a low warm chuckle, the veteran agent shook his head. "No… nothing like that. He's just a well trained soldier with some strong work ethics. Though, the similarity could be part of why I chose him for the team. I have a feeling, though, you'll get to like the three kids. And here's two of them. Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. But they work so well that we call them 'Fitz/Simmons'. I've never met agents so in tuned with each other."

Stepping within the glass surrounded lab, the pair that greeted Tony surprised him to no end. And, again, he had to suspect genetic tampering, because there was NO way two unrelated people could move, act, and speak in such perfect unison and continuity. But with their youthful exuberance and bright smiles, it made the synchronicity less of an unsettling factor, and more of a novelty.

Tony couldn’t help himself from grinning to the pair, and he reached up to stroke the bird's chest as the creature tensed with their rushed approach, worship evident in their eyes.

"Mr Stark, I can't say what a joy it is…" The girl… Simmons began with her lilting British accented voice.

"…to meet you. We've been studying your research…" The boy continued seamlessly in his rolled brogue.

"since we were kids."

More than the words, the way the two spoke was like music, a combining of toned accents to make listening to them pleasant. And with the rapid fire speech patterns, and the doubtless 'technobabble' most people would be lost in, the genius found this particular blend of intellects and communication pretty darn interesting. Not to mention there was a healthy amount of hero worship that made his ego preen. With the low guttural purred sound coming from the bird, he merely turned his head to peer to the magpie on his shoulder, before he chuckled.

"All right, all right. I'll get you something to eat. Soon."

"You have a bird?" Fitz inquired with a healthy amount of surprise and skepticism. There wasn't anything specifying Tony Stark had a pet, and that WOULD be an interesting detail. Still, the curly mopped boyish scientist found that particular bird an odd sight.  "Good Day Mr. Magpie."

"Genus Pica Pica to be precise. Good Day, Mr. Magpie." Simmons concludes with avid curiosity of the avian that stared shrewdly back to her.

"Why the hell is everyone greeting my bird?" Tony finally announced, earning a wry grin from Coulson who watched in silent amusement from the side. And when the pair of scientists look to each other with a shared silent communication, they began to speak together in perfect union, words in the tone and lilt of a lullaby.

"One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for a girl

Four for a boy

Five for silver

Six for gold

Seven for a secret never to be told

Eight for a wish

Nine for a kiss

Ten for a surprise you should be careful not to miss

Eleven for health

Twelve for wealth

Thirteen beware it's the devil himself."

Silence settled in for a long moment before Tony cleared his throat, trying to banish the awkward air. "Seriously, that's kinda weird. But what's that all about?"

"It's a Nursery Rhyme about Magpies…"

"... to find one alone is considered very unlucky."

Drawing a deep breath, Tony glanced to the bird upon his shoulder that merely cocked it's head to look back as if to say 'so what?'.

"I'll remember that next time I go to Vegas. So I take it you two science together? Got any fun projects in the works?" And as the pair of eyes brighten, the engineer KNEW he'd hit them in their weakness. in fact, it was a good hour later when Coulson finally had to draw him away, that the infamous Tony Stark continued his greeting of the crew.

The next place that Coulson led him to was the cockpit, and as he stared down to the composed calm features of the pilot… of Chinese heritage no doubt, Tony was struck with a vicious case of Deja Vu. The sort of feeling where he should KNOW who he was talking to, he's met them before… but promptly forgot in that way that marked his eccentric genius.

He's guessing a one night stand.

And if so, he mighthave been in for some VERY hot water… especially since he's drawing a blank.

"Tony Stark, I'd like for you to meet Agent Melinda May… though, something tells me you've probably met before."

"We have." She replied in a clipped cool tone… displaying neither acknowledgment of him, or disdain.

Leaning closer, the inventor wracked his brain desperately, before he finally relented to inquire. "Could you do me a favor Miss May?"

As calculating eyes narrowed in a definitive 'what' mingled with 'it better be reasonable', Tony pointed to his face. "Slap me."

"Ah, Mr St… Tony?"

"Trust me on this, Coulson. I need a tactile jumpstart. I give it a green light. Slap away."

"I don't think that's such a…"

SLAP!

As the eccentric playboy's head snapped to the right, his eyes widened with realization even as his bird fluttered with annoyed squawks to land safely upon the back of one of the seats, Tony grunted at the throbbing upon his cheek that ached with a startling familiarity.

"2006, San Francisco City Hall, it was the World Technology awards ceremony. You were Maggie Chun, reporter. Wore a red smart evening dress, not too formal, but flirtily modest. I remember, not only that hell of a swing you had, but the array of five… no… six bracelets that chimed when you struck."

"Somehow… that's impressive for all the wrong reasons." The woman stated calmly, somberly before she turned her gaze to the blue sky before them.

Coulson could not help but quirk an eyebrow. "You're like a form of perverse Sherlock. Except the only mysteries you can solve are for your own negligent forgetfulness."

"Sorry if I don't remember EVERY little thing, the toys take up a lot of my attic space."

"That I can believe." Coulson hummed as May merely granted a silent roll of her eyes before she shifted her gaze to the bird that peered to her console with curiosity.

Both of the agents jerk slightly as Tony suddenly snapped his fingers, grinning with a rapscallion mirth before he pointed shamelessly. "I got it! You had a really pretty smile. Really didn't recognize you without it."

"How about I introduce you to the last member of our group, Tony…" The senior agent swiftly steered the inventor out with an apologetic meaningful look behind to the grim eyed women. However, those dark eyes soften as she merely bore a hint of a smile upon her lips, reassurance returning to the man whom she followed with utmost loyalty. However, as a slight grumbled squawk rose from beside her, she merely lofted a thin brow archly.

"Well? Aren't you going with them?" As the creature turned to take wing, she sighed as she rose to close the door behind her visitors, and as she sank down to sit back into the pilot's seat, she could not help but be amused. Oh yes, she remembered crossing Tony Stark in the past. How nice of him to remember her 'polite decline' to the playboy's advances.

Finally, after a little more touring, Coulson lead Tony to the kitchenette and bar where a dark haired girl seemed to be pouring over a laptop with her fingers dancing with a wild abandon. With the approach of the two, she paused, uncertain eyes raised to peer to the familiar faces… and she gaped in realization that while one she KNEW, the other she recognized by media and files. A legend among rebels.

"Tony, I'd like for you to meet Skye. She's one of our operatives in training… formerly of the Rising Tide, but she wants in on our game. Good kid, great with computers… and never hesitates to ask questions when everyone else either can't, or won't. Skye, meet Tony Stark. We're taking him to the Tower in New York, so he'll be on the Bus for a few hours."

"Oh… ah… hi…. Mr. Stark…" Closing her laptop with a slightly nervous fidget, she hesitantly shared a friendly smile touched with awkwardness.

"Tony, it's just Tony. Only pretty girls who call me Mr. Stark want one of three things from me, and I'm guessing a date, an interview, or a money request aren't on your agenda?" Breezing into the kitchen, he began rooting around for ice within the freezer.

Flushing slightly, she shook her head… flustered somewhat by the arrogantly casual shameless nature of the man. And somehow, she couldn’t help smile, until she caught sight of the furiously red mark upon his cheek, to which he instantly put a bag of ice on with a sigh ofrelief.

"Mr Sta...ah…Tony! What happened to your cheek?"

"May." Coulson supplied before settling the man a rather firm look. Without Pepper to act as a reigning in force for the man on a relationship level, he was beginning to realize that maybe bringing him in with his impressionable youngsters would be akin to tossing a fox into the hen coop. "Just to let you know, Tony, my agents and kids are off limits."

"Hey! I'm sitting right here… I can speak for myself, you know." Skye began to flush in frustration before she yelped loudly as a black and white creature abruptly landed with a violent flutter of feathers, making demanding caws as his claws clicked upon the plastic counter top, strut past the girl to glare meaningfully to Tony who was placing the chilling pack to the burning mark.

"Roki!"

Grinning unashamedly, the inventor reached into his case he'd set down to withdraw a bag of dried fruit before he held out a piece.

"All right, don't get your feathers into a bunch." And as the magpie shamelessly stalked closer to pluck out the piece of apricot being offered, he began holding it with his foot and tugging tiny pieces off.

"Tony… I have to ask. Did that bird just say…Roki?" Skye hesitantly inquired, however, Coulson began to bear a look of dawning thought and immediately that thought encouraged him to nestle his face into his palm… almost certain that this was going to be something face-palm worthy.

"He's sorta saying his name. It's Loki."

And, of course, he was right… SO very right. Skye blinked, straightening slightly to look from the magpie to Tony, then back to the feasting creature.

"Why…and I know I'm going to regret asking this… but why do you call him Loki?" Coulson finally managed to ask KNOWING that Tony's found a way to make his boss all the more irritable. Lucky him.

"Well, he's really smart, you see how he likes to strut around like he owns the joint, he's bossy, funny, prim in a weird way… but mostly because it pisses old man Fury off." And as the inventor grinned grandly he looked vastly amused chewing on his own bit of fruit as he watched the bird dining. The fondness for the odd animal was evident.

"You know… he probably only likes you because of your food and the arc reactor." She replied flatly, chin propped in her hand as she caught the surprised look from the notorious engineer.

"What? How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Well, Magpies are like ravens, and ravens are like ferrets with wings… y'know, drawn to shiny things. You've got the biggest shiny thing EVER nestled right in you. You're, like… magpie bait."

Settling to sit at the counter, Tony simply breathed a low grunt. "Hmph… sounds like a lot of people I know."

With a soft clearing of his throat, Coulson interrupted the two. "So, Skye… it's your turn? What are you going to make for lunch."

"My special Guinness stew. It comes in two flavors to choose from. Take it or leave it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Another Revision done. Never realized I wrote this freakin' much.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, who's read, remarked, and gave Kudos for this story. I really enjoy that you are finding entertainment in my writing, and I'm looking forward to bringing more of this story to life! Again, I give my appreciation to all of you who have been reading thus far, and I welcome anyone new!
> 
> First things first, I'm still looking for a Beta to help me proof and edit. Any help at all would be greatly appreciated! And now, for my points:
> 
> 1\. The Bonus Points of today go to EllipsisObsessed who caught last chapter's surprise trivia!  
> "As the purpose of comedy is to correct the vices of men, I see no reason why anyone should be exempt." by Molier. He was speaking, in response to complaints about his plays, that no one should be exempt from comedy, because in it's parodying eye, we can find what needs fixing, or ways of fixing it. The more you know!
> 
> 2.No big Trivia question this chapter, but I nestled in LOTS of references. Can you catch them all?
> 
> 3\. I apologize for the delaying of this... time is, unfortunately, a precious commodity.
> 
> 4\. Do Jotuns have ice cream, and if so.. what flavor would it be?
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another.
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	5. Five for Silver (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony experiences unspeakable torments at the hands SHIELD agents and he comes to a realization that making bets with Coulson... and the bird... may not be in his best interest. Is Pepper happy to see Tony? Angry?
> 
> Loki confronts Tony, and he is alone, high atop his building, and he's not even wearing his elevator shoes. How WILL he survive?
> 
> Beware, there be culture clashes on the horizon!
> 
> And because taste samples are fun...
> 
> " "What…do you mean… by COCK and tail?" The words were cold, cool with a thinly veiled warning as venom toned eyes locked upon the perplexed honey ones of the human that gripped the bar's edge. "
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> And on a side note, I apologize for not posting sooner. I got terribly ill and this is my first half decent day. On the plus side, I think I wrote the dickens out of this chapter, so it's a bit long.

Tony Stark was a man of unflappable pride, unwavering nerves, and unfettered stubbornness. Fear was not something that he was immune to… no, being human made it part of life… but it was never something to hamper him, to falter. It galvanized him to greater acts, spurred his genius, and pushed him to perform acts of heroism he was known for.

Shame was something he had never in his life truly comprehended, and only until recently realized. Uncertainty: what was THAT to the charismatic eccentric?

However, at the moment, as soft words were cooed, urged him, he found himself torn… shivering slightly in unease and tremoring with a nervousness rather unlike him.

"Come along… show it to us, Mr. Stark."

"There is no need to be self conscious. Everyone knows how eagerly you love to share your brilliance."

"Yeah… but I really feel awkward about this…" And despite himself, despite the words that were akin to a feeble protest he could not help but allow his hands to drift down, hesitant and awkward in an action that his playboy lifestyle made into a fluid art. The nervous genius grasped the concealing fabric, pulling the garment with a rustle that sounded so VERY loud in the intimately quiet room as the material teased against hypersensitive flesh. It drew a hiss as cool air  greeted warm skin, and he could practically FEEL the pairs of eyes veritably groping over his flesh… drawing a flush to the normally unflappable man.

Shifting slightly on the vinyl covered cushioned surface of the table, he shivered unbidden, unable to meet the gaze of those eyes that bore with a ravenous delight and fascination to what was now vulnerably exposed, and as appreciative gasps escaped along with low cooed words. Tony closed his eyes to try to still his rapidly beating heart that raced his blood to flush his flesh shamefully despite his attempts to demand it calm with his stubborn mind.

But ever the performer, his body seemed to bask, eagerly in the attention provided, and as low words were murmured, he could not help but feel his every nerve, his very skin alight and tingling at the attention, and it further stoked the unsettling anxiousness within him. Oh, he's done a lot of bizarre acts… bare butt nude often… in the past, but after everything that's happened, and especially Pepper, he'd restrained himself, and had become more self conscious. And now, under more recent events, coupled with a neglect of touch… he was going to be so VERY sensitive, and he knew it. Sweet fates, how did he get talked into this?

"Oh my… it's larger than I've heard rumored…"

"And quite impressive to see in person. Hmmm. I simply have to…"

"…touch it."

Breath quickened Pulse raced. Then those warm brown eyes snapped open, pupils dilated wide as his eyes dropped to the hand that reached out to touch a rather intimate area to him. He should have protested… he knew. He should have changed his mind.

But damn him, he agreed… and when fingers touched flushed pink skin, a low moan escaped the inventor as he dropped his head back, but he could not help but stare. An almost lewd fascination fell to first one set of fingers, than another that had begun to feel over his skin, explored the firmness beneath, the pliability and texture of the skin. Those touches, so taboo to him, drew a low moan from the inventor as a violent shiver slithered through his body, and those calloused hands, rough with his life of hand crafting his brilliance, gripped the edges of the table with a slightly tremoring grasp as his heart began to race at a rapid pace.

"Are you feeling pain?"

"Is this too much for you to handle?"

Darting his tongue out to lathe over his lips, Tony gathered his thoughts that ambled and scattered like distracted kittens back together to attempt to form coherent words.

"No… no… just… sensitive… VERY…ah!" The playboy bucked with a gasp as one set of the fingers drifted to THAT most sensitive of spots, meandering to the puckering of skin bordering his most precious of places, and it took Tony to hook his ankles around the edges of the table to try to mask the tremors that tried to set his legs aquiver as hands began to explore, feel, promising to violate him in the most tender of ways… in their impersonal curious touches.

"Just a little more, Mr. Stark…"

"… it's simply too marvelous for us to resist."

And then there were fingers feeling over his rim, and Tony's knuckles whitened in his spasming grip upon the edge of the table as their exploring touches teased and alit hypersensitive nerves. The slow deliberate brushing of skin against that terribly sensitive area brought his body to quirk and spasm in response, escaping raw soft gasps despite his clenched jaw before a finger began to apply a small bit of teasing curious pressure. Tony could not help but arch with a ragged gasped yelp as his heart lurched and his entire body felt alight with SENSATION.

"Oh fuckin' GOD!"

"What is going ON in here?" Coulson's tone, though gentle and amiable as always, bore a commanding demanding edge as he surveyed that scene before him with grim alert eyes.

"Oh! It's so very exciting!"

"Yes! Mr Stark is letting us touch it!"

Exhaling a slow breath, the senior agent stared to the flushed man beaded with sweat and who looked decidedly unsettled with Fitz and Simmons hovering over him, hands caught guiltily where they felt over his arc reactor. Exhaling a deep breath, the senior agent reached up to rub his eyes before he pinched the bridge of his nose. "…Tony… you don't have to let them talk you into anything. Why don't you go and…"

"Shower!" Tony announced immediately, veritably lurched off of the table as he grabbed his discarded shirt and fumbled to tug it back on. He was heedless that it was inside out as he followed the direction Coulson pointed wordlessly in aid.

Turning to peer to his pair of joyful scientists brimming with a thrilled energy, he exhaled a deep breath as he walked to the table to face the two with a fatherly seriousness.

"I know you find having Mr. Stark here a novelty, and I know that his arc reactor is a thing of scientific Avalon… but I want you BOTH to realize for a moment… that it's a metal object IN his body."

"Well, of course it is… but…" Simmons, however was cut off as the older man continued.

"With first hand experience with major chest wound scars, I want to tell you that he's very sensitive."

"He said that… but…" Fitz continued, and yet again, the senior agent glossed over the protest.

"And I can assure you BOTH, that what it SOUNDED like from outside, was extremely compromising."

With the further matching blank stares, he attempted to gently hammer a little extra detail while maintaining delicacy.

"In a way that could be misconstrued." And as the pair furrowed their brows in an unsettlingly identical way, he began to find this was a losing battle with the science minded pair.

"Hey guys, what's up with all the porn sounds?" Sky inquired with the bluntness of Mjolnir as her dark haired head popped in, absently chewing on a stick of beef jerky as her eyes shifted from one to the other before realization struck Fitz/Simmons both simultaneously, and they both turned beet red, rounding to fuss and fidget awkwardly into their separate projects. Stepping out of the door and letting it close behind him, Phil Coulson reached up to rub his careworn face with both hands before he exhaled a weary sigh.

"Thanks, Skye. Despite the crass means, I think you got across the message." with a low hum she waved her hand dismissively as she absently reached up to stroke the breast of the bird perched upon her shoulder before handing him bits of the dried meat.

"Hey, no prob, Phil. I'm used to 'sharing the information' no one else wants to share." Her lips quirk into a dry smirk. "Though, that recording I made could make some good money on the fan girl black market…" With a long look from not only Coulson… but the bird as well, she threw up her hands. "Sheesh, sheeesh…. I'm just kidding. I'm not going to do that." As the morsel of dried meat was plucked from her fingers, the lass shifted a look to where Tony had skedaddled to in an earnest desperation. And as the bird took wing to follow after the inventor’s direction, she tilted her head aside slightly, watching the magpie flutter to peck demandingly at the washroom door before an irate Tony let it in with much fussing to be heard.

"You know, I wouldn't give his problems to a monkey on a rock."

 

~~~

 

Family… as weird as the word was used to describe Agent's ragtag band of misfit SHIELD agents ( and pseudo agent) it fit. Even the odd duck out, Skye, with her own compromising past seemed to blend in well with the others, and she was, indeed one of Coulson's kids along with his odd pair of 'twins'. For mercy's sake… THOSE two.

They were an invitation to insanity, and he was grateful that Phil interceded in the midst of his 'scientific molestation'. He'd always been self conscious, wary about others around his arc reactor… and he made sure to keep it covered in the midst of intimate times. Even Pepper didn't dare to touch it. His doctor, bless Baati's soul, always was wise enough to grant him an anti anxiety dosage before checking the device. But having two people prying and toying with it? That was a sensation overload that scared him for so many reasons.

One of which, being… much to his surprise and annoyance then, had been that he was proudly half mast by the time he'd made it to the bathing room. And Loki, living up to his name owner's level of irritating mischief and demand, had to further add insult to injury by knocking incessantly until he let the damn bird in while he was trying to handle his problem with a cold shower.

He utterly ignored the creature perched on the sink’s side that watched him with a keen intensity until he finished refreshing himself. The stare was, needless to say, unsettling, like the black and white bird was absorbing every detail of the engineer, it's gaze fixated quite often upon the reactor nestled within his chest. Maybe the little hacktivist was right when Sky said they were drawn to shiny things.

Strangely, though, he felt relieved to have a presence there… something watchful and least likely to speak words of chastisement, and not in the least cowed by his defensive nature or protective snark. No, the bird, a wild animal, simply found him a source of amusement and convenience, and look at that coincidence… he felt the same way.

And later, he was waving his farewell to the odd family of agents, standing upon the tarmac in New York with a grand grin and shades covering his eyes. After a shave, a bit of a preening tousling of his hair, and being back on familiar grounds, he felt like his old self… especially with that soft contented barely noticeable warm hum in his chest.

He's Tony Stark again.

And damn, did it feel good. As Ward settled down the last of his boxes, he shared the grim agent a patent smile as he held out a half folded fifty as if the man was a common bellhop. Noticing the tightening of the agent’s jaw, the slight tensing around the man's eyes, Tony merely breathed a low hum before he spoke in his engaging casually charismatic way.

"Hey, don't give me that look! I just alleviated a little of the liquidity in your 'sky bar', and this should cover my share of things. Buy yourself something nice for the Bus… how about a fish tank?"

"Thank you, Tony…" Agent Coulson stepped forward and smoothly collected the 'tip' from the eccentric entrepreneur with a low chuckle. "I'll take your advice under consideration."

Grinning lightly, Tony observed the sleek black limousine pulling up with a deliberate roll upon his tarmac, turning his attention to Coulson. "I'm going to be in New York for a while, so if you're in town, stop by. You know where to find me… most discrete pillar in town." With the amused snort of the agent, he reached out to settle a comradely hand upon the suit clad man's shoulder, patting it as he peered with expressive mocha brown eyes to the deceptively mild natured agent beside him over the top of his shades.

"You're top shelf in my book, buddy. Seriously. If you need me… if Fury's driving you up the wall or has a particularly nasty stick up his ass or things seem to be a mess in SHIELD, you know you've got the Avengers… and Stark… watching your back. Hell, that goes for your kids, too. I know how it goes with these controlling groups. Just tell me 'What's the Word', and I'll make you all disappear faster than a Pop Tart on the God of Thunder's plate."

"That's good to know." The agent smiled softly, winsomely as he clasped his hands before himself, professionally casual as he turned to face the car that coasted to a stop before them, polished and ominously refined with a grim business portent. "Do you think you'll be able to handle this?" Soft words were murmured in a faint aside to the Avenger beside him, conspicuously confidential, and Tony merely exhaled a deep breath as he shifted from one sneakered foot to the other.

"I'm through running. Time to do business…. uhhh…. huh." With a thoughtful drift of his words, Tony squinted behind his shades, watching the way Happy pulled the door open and first one sleek lovely leg presented itself, then the other, and not before long, Pepper Potts was striding… marching… no… STALKING briskly to the pair, and immediately, Tony knew by the crisp click of her heels, and the boisterous bounce of that proud red pinion of her ponytail, she's repressing some STRONG emotion. But which… that was for him to discover.

"What's you're call, Phil?"

"I'll go with a sound slap."

"Really? I'll bet a hundred it's a big ol hug, Agent."

"You're on, Mr Stark." And with a wearily wise subtle smile, the man stepped aside smoothly, however, as the magpie squawked with a hoarse sound at Tony and hopped to flutter in a shift to the senior SHIELD agent's shoulder, his grin grew wider. "I think he wants in on it. Smart bird."

As the creature preened rather cockily at the praise, Tony stared to his misplaced avian partner in mischief. "How could you take his…." His words cut off, however, as sharp clicks greeted him in a staccato tempo. Turning with a grand smile and a warm spreading of his arms, the infamous playboy, Tony Stark, greeted his beloved CEO. "Pepper! Long time no see!"

SLAP!

"THAT'S for scaring me half to death!"

An utterly confounded look adorned Tony's face as his head snapped to the right, now a bruising heat gracing his OTHER cheek in a flushing match to May's contribution before he suddenly found himself tugged in what could be described as a practically crushing hug. He'd never realized she was so strong before… but this… he suspected the Extremis, even after he'd found a stabilizing cure for it… left a lasting mark.

"And that's for avoiding death. Jesus, Tony… you scared us all."

She was scared, angry, relieved…. a common, cocktail, really, but Tony finally was beginning to realize… how many times on a practically regular basis he scared and infuriated her. With a sheepish boyish grin, he reached up to hug her back, petting her shoulder as he let her vent her frustrations for a moment. But it was far from an intimate act.

No… he's had his time to realize… that by his very chaotic nature… a stable relationship with her was doomed for failure at best, tragedy at worst.

"It's ok, Pep, I'm back, see? Same ol Tony. Not New Tony. I just had a lil time to think."

As a loud trilled croak disturb the rather tender moment, Tony abruptly found himself assaulted by fluttering feathers, rapidly beating wings, and tiny claws scrabbling at the back of his neck, giving the man the mother of all heebie jeebies racing down his spine, and a shriek of shock from the CEO who stumbled a step or two back. Yelping and jerking back, he scrabbled comically on the sun heated asphalt as the bird verily clambered down the back of his shirt and begins TUGGING on his wallet in his back pocket with merely a beak and a world of determination. Momentarily surprised, the harried inventor clamped a hand to the wallet he could feel beginning to move in his jeans, and he finally managed to collect the bird back upon his shoulder.

"ROKI!!!"

"Hey! Hey! She hugged me too! So we're BOTH right!"

As a throat cleared behind him, Tony merely shifted a dry look to the mildly amused agent. "Well, she DID hug you last. You may as well pay up."

Finally snapped out of her shocked stupor, she latched onto one thing she DID know. "Anthony Edward Stark!"

"…uh oh…" Came a wary low tone as Tony, the bird, AND Phil turned their eyes upon the woman who began to straighten, a sharp alarmingly bright light glinted in her imperial blue eye.

"Were you making BETS on me?"

"…uh, yeah. With Agent! He wagered you would slap me. I said you'd give me a hug. So we're even, right, Pep?"

Staying thoughtfully still, she shifted a look between her employer… and the man who'd become a quiet but common part of their lives, only recently rediscovered. He looked completely unashamed, smiled calmly with only the slightest lift of his shoulders in the barest of meek shrugs.

"Really." And then, again, but lighter this time, her hand snaked out yet again to slap Tony's cheek rather loudly. "Pay the man, then get in the car."

And just like that, she turned to offer a warm smile to the fellow who'd returned her wayward ward. "Thank you, Phil, for bringing him back. I know he's a handful." Her well wishing was cut short, however, as something that sounded suspiciously like laughter came from Tony’s direction… but HE was grumbling into his wallet as he pulled out a hundred dollar bill to proffer towards Coulson. She merely stared as the eccentric inventor raised an annoyed look to the bird that tried to peck into his wallet, holding the leather-bound object out of it's reach in the end.

"No… no! Not now, I'll put it in your stash when we get to the Tower… geeze, put a sock in it, will ya?" The bird merely settled itself comfortably on Tony's shoulder, primly poised and looked all the world like the billionaire was it's very own royal perch. Pepper's eyebrows raised in concern as she wondered if Tony hadn't actually lost it completely in another way.

"It's a little weird at first to see, but the bird seems to be good for his recuperation. One of my agents thinks it may be an escaped trained circus bird, judging by it's interactivity with him." Phil spoke softly to the Pepper as he grinned lightly, pleasantly as he accepted his fairly earned ill-gotten gain. "The pair are amusingly good together. Perhaps a pet will be good therapy for him." Reaching out to pat her shoulder, he leaned closer to murmur softly in a private tone. "He will have the Avengers with him, but if anything seems out of the ordinary, let me know, Miss Potts. The less Director Fury has to know, the less he has to fuss Mr. Stark over." Drawing back, he offered a wave of farewell to the pair before he turned to stride back into the ramp of the massive matte black beast of a plane.

Finally, with Happy's greeting, boxes and bags packed into the car, and settled into the familiar comfort of the leather interior, Tony exhaled a deep sigh as he leaned his head back in the corner as the magpie then settled into his lap, nudging his hand in imperious demand for petting. To which, of course, he amiably obliged, stroking his calloused fingers with surprising gentleness over the soft smooth white and black feathers.  As Pepper settled in beside him, she merely stared to the odd sight before she rolled her eyes with a slow shake of her head. Well, at least he's not trying to cook, thank God.

"So… Tony, there's a few things we need to discuss when we make it to the tower. How you are feeling, how your company is doing, the changes to the tower, us… but first of all…" She merely lofted a thin brow as she reached beside herself to pluck up a tell tale white bag stapled closed with a ticket… the medicinal maraca music of pill bottles unmistakable. "How about you tell me how you talked your CARDIOLOGIST into prescribing stimulating lubricant?"

 

~~~

 

All in all, after the initial embarrassing beginning of the conversation, their discussions transpired remarkably well. Civil was the the mood, the tentative hope, he warily approached their mutual topic with… but surprisingly, it had turned out… well. There were no bones about it… the Tony and Pepper romantic couple chapter was officially over. C'est finis and and all other flowery French words for 'The End'. However, they'd come to realize that she couldn't be more than the mother to him… or the sister he lacked. His rock. Someone he could confide in when he eventually had relationship problems in the future. He did still mourn the loss of their intimacy, however, even he had come to realize he'd love the IDEA she had been to him, rather than Pepper as… well, Pepper.

And so by nightfall, they were sitting upon the rounded terrace landing pad, overlooking the city with a bottle of champagne, two red solo cups, and their shoes off and allowing their toes to dangle into the cool air that raced below them. Like reunited old friends, they discussed the bizarre antics he'd been through… though, oddly, he hadn't felt like approaching the subject of his visits by the God of Lies.

She'd just recuperated from a world of worry, she certainly didn't need more and if there was something THAT one who flew over the cuckoo's nest inspired… it was a LOT of worry. 

The woman with the patience of Buddha actually coaxed the goodwill of his bird, and it even seemed to find a calm pleasant comfort sitting on her lap with his head nestled upon her bosom. Then again, Tony felt like the smarmy little animal was taunting him as it endured her petting with relish in a spot no longer reserved for the inventor, and those beady black eyes stared aloofly victoriously to him even as she stroked the smoothed feathers of his head with neatly manicured nails. And then, like the little opportunist it was, the little Magpie plucked and accepted offered tidbits from their dinners before it took wing into the night and left  the pair alone.

"If I'd have known earlier, I'd have gotten you a dog. Perhaps, a golden retriever." Pepper mused with a warm fondness as she leand back slightly. She rested her hands behind her and raised her head to look up to the stars that dimly twinkled past the light pollution of the Big Apple. The irreverent snort that escaped the inventor drew a faint smile from the powerful business woman.

"Nah, already have one." That statement, earned a sharp surprised look from the CEO before she turned an alarmed look to the tycoon inventor. At her priceless expression of alarm and readiness to chastise, he grinned with vivid amusement as he nodded his head upwards. "Thor."

"Tony!" A light laugh escaped Pepper as she reached out to swat the shorter man beside her with embarrassed amusement. It was amazing, really… how he could say such terrible, forbidden, utterly classless things and make them horrendously illegally amusing. "Don't treat a Royal from another world like he's your pet!"

"Why not? He's derpy, he likes to go for runs, he wrecks my furniture, you should see the puppy eyes when I tell him to sit and stay, and he's REALLY good at playing catch and fetch." With hands spread wide in a gesture of earnest imploring, Tony basked in Pepper's laughter barely captured behind her hand as she leaned back slightly, picturing the God of Thunder doing those very things. His own laughter followed suit, and it felt like a cleansing balm from the lingering pains from their break. Well, he hadn't exactly LOST her. He'd simply lost a lover and gained a deep and true friend, a friendship closer than they had before… and a cornerstone to his life with the stout steadiness like the Rock of Gibraltar, without interpersonal issues to potentially compromise it.

And, after Fury's blunt remark, and the time to mull and ponder it… Tony had come to realize that the regret in failing Pepper as her boyfriend came less from the loss of intimacy from her… and more of the fact of failure in general. The man who made a hobby out of achieving the impossible and improbable truly didn't feel comfortable when being presented with a problem he simply wasn't meant to solve.

Finally, they eased into a soft chuckle, and slowly, the CEO rose to stand, the wild wind whipping that proud tail of red hair about her as she gazed down to the man who peered up to her with a look of regret mingled with resignation veneered with a soft smile. Her features, subtly careworn from the stress of dealing with this capriciously chaotic man and looking almost motherly in her thoughtful concern, were lit with a gentle glow from the moon nestling high above them. It illuminated her like a biblical saint. Which, after the trials she'd been through on his behalf, she probably was liable for the title.

"Are you going to be all right, Tony?"

For a long moment Tony sat, swinging his bared feet idly over the night lit world that bustled below like little a colony of glow bugs in a brick filled hive… the red cup nestled in his hands, fingers felt over the thin plastic walls of the fragile but useful object. Finally he nodded, lower lip pursed slightly as he slowly exhaled a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be fine, Pep. You know me. I bounce back."

Quirking an eyebrow, the CEO of his company merely settled the man a thinly feigned look of aloof disbelief before she inquired dryly. "No. You drink, you party, you lock yourself into 'candy land', blow things up, then you burst out in a glory of sparks brighter and crazier than ever in some way, and leave me with PR chaos."

With his unabashed grin turned her way, Tony Stark held up the cup in a toast. "What can I say, baby. I'm Tony Stark."

Breathing a soft laugh, she stooped to pat his shoulder reassuringly before she collected her stilettos by the ankle straps as she padded to the balcony door. "And on that note, I'll just leave you and your ego alone so you two can get acquainted again. I'm going to give you three days to rest, but you better be ready bright and early on Monday. You'll be so deep in paperwork, you are going to be bleeding ink by the end of it." The mercilessly merciful woman remarked crisply as she strode to the doors of the communal den of the Avenger's Tower… one of the first places finished in the refurbishment and restoration of his… no… HER tower.

"Yes Mom!" The inventor called to the woman approaching the elevator within the brilliantly lit space.

"Don't give me lip, boy, or I'll smack you so hard you'll find yourself in Asgard!" The strong willed woman sniped back with an uncompromising tone laced with mirth before the doors to the lift closed with a gentle faint sigh of a glide.

He paused with a slight wince before he rubbed his cheek absently with a slight grimace in memory of her strikes earlier. "Y'know, I think she probably could, too." 

"As implausible as it is, I would delight in witnessing such a sight if only to see the look upon the Gallows' God's face." That smooth faintly smugly amused voice… by then, Tony didn’t jump. He didn't feel alarm spike through him nearly as much as it once had. No, he was beginning to feel an amused annoyance much akin to the dieting housewife greeted at the door by the local gang of Girl Scouts that pushed their narcotical cookies. It's not healthy, but it's oddly cute in a weird way.

"Sir…"

"Yeah Jarvis…" Tony cut off his AI with a sigh as he plucked up the bottle of champagne to pour himself a tad more, nonchalantly. "I know… but let's not go full on code red, yet. Classify him as 'Lawyer Neutral'."

"Confidential, and considered a 'self serve guest' unless he in any way attempts to harm you, then I have my pick of windows to eject HIM from, Sir?" The cordial voice remarked rather dryly, well used to, and used to mildly questioning, his master's antics. Oh, he did not question with intent to ignore protocol… merely as the logos 'Jiminy Cricket' voice to help guide his creator’s errant decision making.

"Atta boy. I love you to bits, J." With a sip of the bubbly brew, Tony turned slightly where he sat to peer up, WAY up the dark leather clad form of the God of Chaos to squint to the man who peered about with the restrained tension of a ferret readied to strike an unseen threat. Really, the man was OBSCENELY tall, and at this angle it was prone to put the sitting inventor's neck into a sullen cramp. At least he wasn’t bedecked in the gold armor… less glare for Tony's eyes. "Anyone tell you you're like a bad penny? Never know when you'll turn up." He pat beside himself despite his better judgment.

"Your servant…. is rather gifted in hiding." The deity mused slowly, seeming to utterly ignore the wry remark upon his visit. For a moment, Tony could not help but smirk in amusement. He's proud of how clever his AI was in remaining silent and verily leaving the doors 'unlocked' when his tower had been invaded. Jarvis, simply put, saw that with the ease Loki had in destroying one door in a flick of a hand, it wasn't worth replacing ALL the doors, and really? To fight the building against a god simply wouldn't have been beneficial to it's structural wellbeing, despite the damage already done. And by keeping quiet… Loki was unaware of it's true capabilities and that he'd been watched the ENTIRE time.

"Oh, yeah… this is your first time meeting J, huh. Well, pop a squat, Leathermeister, and I could introduce you."

With the sharp withering look mingled with the priceless edged confusion that screamed culture clash, a look he'd learned to appreciate cultivating in Thor, Tony pat the spot beside him. "Sit. I know you love the grandeur of your height, but it's ruined when I can see all the way up your nose. Besides, I owe you a drink, don't I?"

The words disarmed the god, however… Tony DOES present a good point. What is the worth of a glorifying pose if all the little man noticed were his nostrils? With an elegant swoop of the long coat, the deity settled to sit with a soft creak of leather, looking far less… wildly grandiose than before. It seemed, he too… found this pleasant vantage soothing and mind clearing as well. And judging by the edge of weariness gracing those sharp features, it seemed the Trickster was in need of some mental palate cleansing. Wordlessly, the human held the bottle to the god beside him, as amiable and mutual as a pair of bums on the subway steps, exquisite champagne having replaced a questionable brown paper coated bottle of Thunderbird.

"Loki, meet Jarvis… short for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. He's an artificial intelligence I created… my most responsible brainchild, and he always makes his papa so proud."

"I am humbled by your praise, Sir." The intangible butler cooed back with wry amusement, voice picking a hitch of mirth as Loki raised aristocratic dark brows to peer around then back to the surprising Midgardian beside him. "And may I say, Mister Loki, that I am grateful that you maintained breaking and entry damage upon your prior visit to a minimum."

"You have crafted a mind for your building?" The sorcerer inquired with a rising fascination as he peered to the letters where his battle with Thor had demolished all save the A. Though everything seemed to be mended and repaired, that single A stood solitary and bright, representing the Avengers and a new hope for this city. How oddly befitting.

"Not quite. Jarvis is nowhere and everywhere. He goes with me wherever I go… in my devices, homes, vehicles. He's a product of my genius and my skills as an inventor, no hocus pocus. Don't feel bad if you don't understand it… most people don't. It's kinda funny seeing them talking to the ceiling like he's the voice of God." The inventor remarked wryly with a devilish smirk as pride sparkled warm within him, especially when discussing his greatest creation. So he's a proud papa. He more than readily admitted he doted on his inventions like children, and he's not embarrassed to treat them openly as such in front of others.

He's rich. He could afford to be eccentric.

Loki, however, pursed his lips as he gracefully took the bottle that had been set down beside him and slowly drew a sip from it before wrinkling his nose slightly at the taste. Oh… it wasn’t the burn. But the fizziness and the weak (in his experience) alcohol made for a tickling sensation to his tongue. However, he seemed to grow amenable to the beverage as he drew a longer sip as he stared out over the city.

"This Jarvis… shows elements of emotion. I have not seen Midgardian devices or computers capable of such realism. Have you truly found a way to program such attributes?"

"Actually… no…" Tony continued, absently rubbing his goatee with his eyebrows scrunched slightly in thought. "I mean… I programmed him with certain parameters to follow, but I made him to be a self evolving program. So when I say he's like my kid… I really mean I'd been watching him grow. Taking care of him when he got sick with a virus, fixing his booboos, telling him not to play with those Windows OSes because I didn't want him dirty, and helping to teach him more." Catching himself in his affectionate rambling, the human shook his head sharply before he sipped from his plastic cup laden with expensive bubbly. This was the enemy, not parents talking about their kids playing in a park. "I'm kinda surprised you ask. Most people just say 'Computer. Ok.' and go on their merry way."

"I am fascinated and quite surprised that you have managed to create something Midgardians up until now were thought incapable of." Loki remarked with a grudging respect and a rising curiosity. "Homunculus." However, as the man beside him scrunched his face into a disturbed look blended with a brewing ire, the deity dryly lofted a raven brow. "Whatever is traversing that mind of yours, Stark?"

"Look here, you leather fetish giraffe, you can say a lot of things, but it's going TOO damn far to call me a 'tiny man'."

Silence reigned, a tense cacophony of empty sounds stripped away by the vivid wind stirring their hair. And then, Loki laughed. He LAUGHED. A stomach hugging, cheek flushing, honest to goodness TEARS in his eyes laughter. And despite the many times he'd heard the mad man laugh, he'd never heard THIS. It was so human. And it wasn't biting in the least or even mocking.

"All right, Chuckles, spill. It wasn't THAT good of a joke."

Regathering himself, the Aesir chuckled into the bottle as he drew a steadying breath to calm himself. "What I was referring to, my precious petite mortal, is that Jarvis appears to be a created 'pseudo person' tied to it's creator and gifted with the capacity of growth. That, in the terms of sorcery, is a Homunculus. I do not wish insult to your height, for it is rather conveniently portable and 'fun sized' to coin a term I discovered from the Hawk."

Tony eased somewhat from his self righteous tension to settle the taller man leering in mild amusement beside him before he finally exhaled a long breath, shaking his head. "All right. So… I guess it would look like magic to you guys. I'm not a magician, though. No wand waving here. And, anyhow, what would YOU know about sorcery? I thought Aesir were, I dunno, big burly warriors with super zappy powers."

A low scoffed sound escaped Loki before he slowly swirled the contents within the bottle. "Yes, most Aesir are. I, however, am different. I am a sorcerer."

"Sorcerer? Holy cow, that's kind of a HUGE detail. How come Thor didn't mention that tiny as the Titanic detail to us?"

Tony Stark was, what one would call, the aficionado of drinking. There's the celebration drink, the hide the snark sip, the can't stop the tastiness gulp, and the party chug. Loki, the graceful creature that he seemed to be, tilted his head back and performed one that the inventor knew all TOO well.

The Drown. Gulping back the bubbly brew to drown out an anger, bitterness, or pain. Finally, when the entire remaining half of the bottle was emptied, the leather clad figure seemed to slouch slightly, a hint of a subtly instinctive self protection drew that lean long body in on itself. The bitterness in the clipped accented words could have pickled eggs. "Because male sorcerers are a frowned upon topic, in Asgard. It would have brought shame to him to admit it to his new allies."

Like a block puzzle that had been shaken JUST the right way, so many pieces clicked into place for Tony. Well. DAMN.

"Fuck'em."

Raven hair stirred in the breeze as Loki's head snapped up for startled emerald eyes to lock upon the annoyed expression upon the baffling human's features.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Fuck them and their views. So they don't like what you can do? Find someone who does, then give those narrow minded assholes the finger." The human snapped before he rose to stand, basking in the cool wind whipping around him as he stood like a lord over his city with arms held wide. "See this? It's Midgard. Earth. New York City. Endless possibilities here, and if you give them a reason, they'll love ya. Hell, they call ME a hero, even though I keep telling people I'm not. I'm just a jerk that did some crappy things and now I'm paying my debts."

With that exuberant energy and that classic Stark showmanship, Tony offered his hand out to Loki with a grand grin.

"I'm beginning to get an idea. Probably a bad one. Let's go inside, get you a REAL drink, and then we'll make it the best worst idea ever."

Thunderstruck and stripped of words for a long amount of time, the God of Chaos stared up to Tony, who, by this point… was beginning to feel cold and numb in his fingers from having his hand hanging for so long in offering. He must, he mused belatedly, look like a dork, but he was absolutely not going to back down. He was not going to withdraw, not even if he felt the tell tale pins and needles.

"Offering discussion and drinks to your enemy? You are rather insane, you do realize this, Stark? And coming from the God of Madness, that is saying quite a great deal. However…" An almost wolfish grin graced the sharp etched features as his eyes crinkled in green gleaming wicked amusement as he clasped his hand to Tony, greeting the warm calloused flesh with long deft fingers. "… I LIKE this."

As Loki rose with a soft whisper of leather, both of the men came to a rather abrupt realization.

Barefoot and standing unguarded before Loki… Tony hardly made it to the man's SHOULDER. And while this bordered on embarrassingly infuriating, Loki… who was considered a runt among his own kind, found it indescribably amusing and flattering to his ego. With the man before him smirking with wicked delight, Tony merely rolled those mocha toned eyes before he stooped to collect his shoes to slip back into them and gained nearly ten inches in height before stalking to the glass door that opened to invite them within.

"Don't even think about it, Merlin. I've heard them ALL before. There's not one short joke on Earth I haven't ever heard."

"Oh? Well, then… I suppose I shouldn't say that I've always been fond of Dwarven clockwork crafters?"

As his host turned to stare to the man who trailed like a lanky vulture behind him with a warning… no… DARING look, Loki simply could not help contain his devious urge to banter with the sharp witted mortal. The human was simply TOO much fun to tease.

"Did you know they have insatiable sexual appetites for goddesses?"

Flailing as if burned by that very mental image, Tony reached up to rub his eyes with one hand as the other waved to scatter the sight his mind's eye was providing. "Ew ew ew! You evil bastard, you just RUINED Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs for me!!! Time to mix brain bleach for that one!"

And like a true master of the bar, Tony didn’t hesitate to slink behind the counter, nimble hands plucking glasses and mixing implements with practiced precision.

"May I ask, Stark, why are you being so generous? A more logical person would have summoned SHIELD within seconds. And yet, time and again, you are generous and social to me. Are we not on separate ends of the spectrum?" Loki inquired as he sank to sit upon the stool of the bar. He laced long fingers over the shimmering dark granite as he observed the curious ritual of the man behind the bar working without concern.  And even more curious, the Avenger did not seek those bracelets like before to summon his suit. The man truly was unguarded.

"See, this is the way I see it. I'm safe, because I owe you one, and until then, your pride wouldn't let you kill me until you collect it. So, that means I'm safe. And as long as you're here with me, you're not off somewhere causing someone mayhem. So less work for me. So, in the end, having you around is beneficial to everyone. My question now, however, is what are your plans? I mean, you don't have to go into detail, but… what? World domination, universal destruction, learn how to crochet, find Jimmy Hoffa, what?" Curious bottles were tilted, components mixed and blended into a glass that looked suspiciously like a massive crystal skull, albeit a smaller one next to it. Though his eyes were casually, trained upon his task on hand, a glimpse now and then found the sorcerer curiously observing what must look like alchemy to him.

It may damn well be necromancy considering what he was making.

"Primarily, I am avoiding my enemies. Survival, of course. Aside from that…" Loki trailed off absently as he admired how fruit juices and liquors blended into an eerie concoction within the skull. "…I am curious about your world. Apart from that, I have no true plans worth mentioning. I have something in mind, but it may seem laughable compared to past ambitions."

As a pair of impossibly red cherries were dropped in, strategically landing where the eye sockets were in the glass, the concoction was pushed over with a glide of a cloth under it to protect the granite. The Prince merely lofted a dark brow artfully as he raised his appraising gaze from behind hooded eyes from the drink to the mortal who grinned from behind the bar. "What, pray tell, is this?"

"Zombie. Named that because it's rumored to eat brains. It's illegal to buy more than one of these a night, y'know. True story." Tony remarked casually as he picked up his own glass. He'd taken less with the intent that he wanted to keep his wits, but sakes alive! That stuff had a kick. Coughing slightly, he grinned before blowing a bit of air as he granted a thumbs up to the man who peered suspiciously to it. "Don't worry, Blitzen. There's no poison if you don't count alcohol."

Hesitation and wary suspicion cautiously ghosted his movements as the god picks up the impossibly heavy drink in one hand… and drew a cautious sip. Sweet exploded across his tongue, fruity and cut with a brilliant tang of tropical juices, but a rich vibrant earthiness seemed to roll after, an invasion of heat and sweet Norns… he could TASTE the alcohol.

Tony delighted in watching his alien guest’s expression. He'd begun the fun hobby of 'Aesir watching' with Thor, to see his expression in encountering new Midgardian delights. His brother was no less entertaining; perhaps even more because Loki was not nearly so trusting as Thor… and that showed. His efforts to craft this deadly drink were well rewarded as he observed each expression that clambered and capered across the God of Mischief's face to end, finally, with wonder.

"It's…. sweet. I like this."

"I figured… with mead being all sweet, and with what Thor told me about you and your elf wine, I figured you'd be a cocktail guy." Tony stated easily, however, as Loki choked with a pricelessly amusing burble of bubbles and began coughing, the genius was left scratching his head with open bafflement. "Uh, don't drink too fast until you get the hang of-"

"What…do you mean… by COCK and tail?" The words were cold with a thinly veiled warning as venom toned eyes locked upon the perplexed honey ones of the human gripping the bar's edge. That hard look eased, however, as Tony raised first one… then the other dark brow…. before realization dawned upon the playboy.

With a smarmy smirk, Tony plucked up the Bartender’s Guide book from behind the bar and placed it before seething god.

"Ooooh, you…. get your mind out of the gutter, Loki. I mean COCKTAILS. Mixed drink. Whatever floats your boat, buddy, in other areas… not my place to care." Casual, yes… perfectly rationally cool as a cucumber. Tony sipped his own drink as Loki eased from that dangerous tension before he peered upon the book, then looked within to what looked like pure alcoholic alchemy. This… he was certainly going to have to take an interest in.

The manipulative predator drank more of that potent brew as he waited for the brazen mortal to ease into the camaraderie of shared drinks.

"So… you mentioned you do not mind what my… proclivities are?"

And now it was the god's turn to watch the human choke upon his drink, and it was a sight truly worth the effort. Pounding upon the bar top with one hand and the other at his chest, Tony spluttered as he turned a delightful shade of crimson before watery honey eyes raised to stare in shock to Loki.

"W…wh…what?!"

"I asked… if you truly are informal into the tastes of others." The sorcerer calmly inquired as if repeating an inquiry upon the state of the weather. "And before you presume me to be a beast, I detest coupling without consent."

Tony finally leaned back to clear his head before he furrowed his brows slightly, puzzled over why this would MATTER to the man so much… but with a quick recall of that earlier reaction due to Asgard's view of sorcerers Tony began to theorize the place was woefully narrow in it's views. No wonder Loki went batshit crazy.

"Well… it's like this. I'm MOSTLY a ladies man. Tony Stark, ultimate playboy, right? Well, I've dallied with guys, time to time, in the past. I might mostly be a Lady Killer, but, hey doesn't mean it can't be someone else's gig. As long as no one's getting hurt in ways they don't want, and everyone's agreeing, then fine. That's the majority of how this nation feels, and the sentiment is spreading all over the world." Quirking his brows slightly as he peered to Loki who bore a soft contemplative look, Tony pondered what he was seeing.

Aesir aged differently than humans… could his destructive rivalry with Thor REALLY be a brotherly spat and the nutbar was going through some crazy teenage identity crisis? It was beginning to look a LOT like it, and he's having a harder and harder time detesting the man as he once had. Mostly because, the more he learned about Loki… the more he'd found himself looking at his younger self. Which was weird considering that the god had millennia on him.

"Stay here." The words blurted out of Tony without his thinking, not an inkling or an ounce of common sense there to halt a particularly poor judgment.

"Stark, have you drunk your thoughts to impairment?"

"I am afraid, Mr Loki, that he is not quite to that point. Give him time, however."

"Gee, thanks, Jarvis, for the peanut gallery input." The genius drawled wryly to his creation before he raised his attention to Loki who nursed a mildly baffled and wary look.

"Why, in the name of the Norns, do you want me HERE? Have you forgotten that I am your enemy?"

"I'm not a warrior, Loki, I'm a problem solver. I FIX things. So, here's the problem. Everyone hunts you because you cause trouble. Now, if you stay with me, you can't cause trouble. Less work for me, great for everyone!!! And if you're with me, you've got the best security this planet can offer short of being in a cell. Most of your enemies… are probably my enemies, too. And as for Asgard, I rarely do business with uptight assholes. Fury had to earn that privilege."

"And I would wager he is rueful of the decision since." Loki stated before he sighed, allowing his shoulders to sag as he drank the half depleted beverage and looked all around exhausted. "But, the same could be said about a cell. Why do you want me HERE? Why are you helping me?"

"I want to be your Ho Yensen." Tony relented with a sigh, however, at the wry eyebrow from the Aesir, he prayed that that name didn't have another meaning in their Norsey language. "Ho Yensen was someone who helped me change and become the man I am now. He died giving me the chance to become Iron Man. I owe a lot to him, and I'm sure he'd want me to do this. Passing on the torch sort of thing, I guess."

Steepeling his fingertips slowly, Loki narrowed his eyes shrewdly to peer to the inventor across from him as he silently weighed the offer. It was good. Just what he needs at the moment. TOO good, however.

"I want the parameters of this offer to be clear. I will work to earn my sanctuary. I will not be a pity case."

With the surprising show of ethical strength nestled with the sorcerer's pride, Tony nodded, considering.

"I want for you to help with the defense and security of my building… I mean, it'd be in your best interest to protect your nest, right? I also want for you to learn more about this world, but also about the city and the lives you affected. There's a lot of grieving people out there, and a lot of wounded. If you want to earn your keep, start by doing something beneficial for them."

Softly, a low hummed sound of thought escaped Loki as he closed his eyes, basking in his thoughts to weigh Tony's words as he balanced potential gains and losses, searching for loopholes.

"Very well, Stark. I will comply. I would also suggest that you utilize me as a resource should you find any artifacts or objects obviously not of your world."

With the disbelieving look Tony shared back, Loki merely rolled his eyes to settle a bland look upon the inventor. "Oh come now. The Chitauri are most CERTAINLY going to rely on your human curious nature and lack of knowledge in all things universal and arcana to give you an object of your own demise. Pandora's Box should be a prime example."

Drawing a deep breath, Tony finally exhaled. "All right, all right. We'll hash out living arrangements tomorrow, I don't think I could plan a ham sandwich half zombified as I am right now. Just tonight… you can sleep in here, I know I've passed out on that couch tons of times. Jarvis will take care of anything if you need help."

With a slow nod, Loki reached up with nimble long fingers and with a deft twist of his hand he plucked something out of thin air in a flash of green magical glimmering swirls of smoky air. The Trickster could not help but smirk at the childlike wonder and raw curiosity that crossed the inventor's face, making him seem rather boyish as his scientific mind attempted to wrap around the action Loki had just taken. Magic. Tawny eyes blink, however, as something glimmering dropped before his gaze, held dangling before him. Tony blinked slowly, peering to the silver bracelet as he realized it was in the form of a snake, but so supple in craft and intricate workmanship, it felt as smooth and fluid as water, with twin green stones gleaming for it's eyes.

"What's this?"

"A promise of good faith… and a way to find you, which considering events with the Mandarin, you may wish for this. Merely speak my name, and I will hear you."

As the bracelet was collected to be peered at with intense admiration and intrigue, Loki smirked as he sipped his drink.

"So it's, magic or something?" Tony inquired as his pert pink tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he worked to fasten the  treasure about his wrist… finally figuring out that the mouth bit the tail… and it began to shrink down until it comfortably fit upon his wrist. Alien jewelry, he decided in awe… MUST be his next investment. He could make a fortune in self sizing jewelry.

"Wow, silver. Thought you were more of the gold sorta guy… what with the armor and stag horns."

"Oh… that bracelet isn't the only thing of mine that's silver, my precious little Mortal." Loki drawled lazily, catlike as he dipped neatly manicured fingers within the glass to capture one of the viciously violently crimson cherries. The bright spot of color ensnared the mortal's attention, and he allowed a languid grin of pure unrepentant sin to grace his features as he met the honeyed eyes bound by unrelenting curiosity. He flick his tongue out to capture the lingering juice of the drink, caressing the smooth slick surface with a sensual slide.

"My tongue…" Loki purred the words before he circled the angry red fruit in a lusciously lewd manner before he suckled the fruit within the subtly pinked lips stained from the cherry's juices. The sensual mischief maker hummed a low sound of enjoyment as he allowing the sweetness and tart burn of the drink mingled in to bring a subtle shiver of enjoyment. Tony was utterly transfixed, staring as Loki's tongue was quite obviously molesting the hapless fruit within his mouth before he stuck out that wet muscle once more. In an act of high improbability, the stem was knotted… while STILL attached to the cherry. "… is legendary."

Like a sudden physical force, unexpected arousal ached within the now snug denim, and Loki could only delight how those chocolate eyes widened and Tony's jaw dropped with the sudden twitch that gripped his body. And then as the inventor shook himself back to awareness, he realized that, sweet mother of mayhem, he'd popped an instant boner. Because of Loki. Because of his TONGUE. Because his mind, damned creative and imaginative thing that it was, was gleefully mass producing mental images about what that tongue could DO…

"That's it, I'm going to bed." Tony turned stiffly, marching with steps that only reminded him that he certainly had something he wouldn't be able to sleep off, strained and uncomfortable in his jeans. It wasn’t long after Iron Man disappeared into his room before a frustrated half roar of a sound escaped muffled from behind the wall before the sounds of faintly falling water ensued.

Mightily pleased with himself, Loki plucked the cherry free to chew on it. "I wonder how long it would take before he is begging?

"Please, do not encourage him, Mister Loki. My Master is difficult to keep focused on his affairs as it is."

To this, Loki bore an amused smirk as he absently cupped his hands about the glass to chill his remaining drink.

"Loyal to the end. How admirable. Well, since the night is young, I would like for you to procure for me information I need."

"What information would you wish for me to provide?"

"Everything you may obtain involving my invasion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Revision Note: Another one down, more to come! If you see future chapters disappear, don't worry, I may have them hidden until I get them revised. The revisions should be finished in the next few days, and by the end of Sunday, there should be a fresh new chapter 12!
> 
>  
> 
> Other notes:  
> Thank you, everyone, who's read, remarked, and gave Kudos for this story. I really enjoy that you are finding entertainment in my writing, and I'm looking forward to bringing more of this story to life! Again, I give my appreciation to all of you who have been reading thus far, and I welcome anyone new!
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with a sliderule would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des). Now, for the goodies: 
> 
> 1\. Homonculi: means literally 'tiny man'. Which, understandably given Starks' height, he's sensitive about.
> 
> 2."I wouldn't give his problems to a Monkey on a rock."- Always loved this quote. Name that source!
> 
> 3\. Don't get ill, guys, totally not worth it.
> 
> 4\. WAY past tense: I started writing this fic in past tense, however, because of a lack of a proofer, I transitioned to present tense. I actually swapped last chapter, but forgot to note this. I'll be fixing my prior posts at a later time. * Update. It's all in the past, now.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another.
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	6. Six for Gold (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem with living with a God of Chaos, is mayhem can and WILL ensue. And now that Loki is effectively camping out in Tony's tower, Tony is learning he's going to have to become fantastic at juggling. 
> 
> A wake-up call to end all wake-up calls.
> 
> The Truth of the Magpie... is revealed! 
> 
> Among many other things. 
> 
> Clint and Tony become Brewski Buddies and have a heart to heart from everything ranging from the Battle of New York to Tony's capacity in being a connoisseur of breasts.
> 
> WARNING: Just because Tony does or says something, it doesn't mean I do as an author. The guy is about as blunt as a baseball bat. This means... tasteless Tony ahead!

Like a stalking shadow that refused to leave, Tony found his dreams invaded by old nightmares… that endless void filled with a frightening armada of ships, an alien domain in space. Strangely enough, though, his own memories began to muddy, warp. The cave he dreaded and despised was there... but chittering leathery handed Chitauri were the ones torturing him, not the sun and sand ruddy members of the Ten Rings. There was the water, yes… but he could feel unrelenting pain… such agony. He was burning from heat meant to sear both flesh and reason out of his head.

He was drowning, breaking, burning…

"Stark". Like fabled divine intervention, there was a touch… cool, gentle. It banished these terrors, froze them in a wintery mercilessness until there was nothing but gleaming crystalline abstracted forms of his tormentors and blue white oblivion. 

Abruptly everything faded into a gentle darkness about the tormented man, memories and nightmares alike were trapped and banished into inconsequential darkness where the only light that remained was his arc reactor that shone a gentle blue white in the dream. The cool touching him wasn't biting or chilling, it eased him, soothed him like a balm, and Tony found it a comforting protection. With this touch on his shoulder, he was grounded and the demons that haunted him for so long couldn't reach him. And so he grasped the hand, pulled it close even with his eyes closed. He didn't need to see his security. To do so… he was afraid… would tempt fate to strip it from him.

And so he pulled the comfort closer, nestled himself against it and hugged it close with a silent affection and need one would think the great proud Tony Stark would be incapable of.

Then again, this was a dream, and no one would see him in a moment of weakness, right?

 

~~~

 

The sun was a malicious vindictive bastard. As it's furious rays burned into the genius' face, seared through his eyelids, Tony wondered why so many villains tried to destroy the world when the sun obviously was the greater offender. That burning bastard. Obnoxiously bright. 

At any rate, ignoring the gentle drone of Jarvis who murmured in the background, the billionaire squeezed his eyes tighter with a peevish reluctance as he rolled away from the window and instinctively curled up to the form he was laying beside. The sleepy engineer slung an arm over the pleasant lump as he snuggled closer to it, burying his nose into long hair: silk fine and warm against his face. What began as a zombie perfect groan of incoherent dismay turned into a growl of contentment and a smile as he felt simply too damn comfortable.

Sun be damned, there were truly BETTER ways to wake up. Ah, there was nothing quite like waking with a pleasant body. A low hum escaped Tony as he indulged in the intriguing scents that greeted his nose from this intimate nuzzling he partook in the back of the person's head in the bed with him. An old world scent akin to the expensive colognes worn by men and women alike with infinitely more refined tastes greeted his nose. The scent reminded him of a high end merchant's market he'd been to in Oslow once: sandalwood and amber, blended with verbena and rich yet subtle floral. But what truly made it enthralling was the hint of winter and leather mingled with it, and two things struck Tony's hazy lazy mind.

Well, Three things. The first, is that it was NOT Pepper and her airy professional L'air Du Temps. The second… that he may have made the Zombies too strong last night, because he didn’t remember finding himself someone for a late night hanky panky.

And thirdly, and most of all, he REALLY liked the scent. As he buried his nose into the long soft locks, he growled a low sound of enjoyment. The slowly rousing inventor slithered his arm around the supple form clad in thin soft linen and he spooned closer to press his heated body flush against the pleasant form. "Hmm… you smell good."

Said form tensed abruptly, however, Tony breathed soft hushing sounds to ease the morning startling of his yet to be remembered guest as he rubbed his hand over a deliciously toned belly in soothing slow circles that seemed to make the tension melt gradually.

"Hmm… don't go yet. 's too early for that." He couldn’t help but tease a soft kiss upon the back of the neck he discovered amidst his nuzzling of that soft hair and the playboy suckled the cool skin soft over a strongly beating pulse that quickened rewardingly beneath his lips.

For a long moment, silence reigned as his soothingly circling hand meandered under the cloth to greet cool soft skin over a firm toned limber body. A dancer Tony guessed. Too classy a scent for an Ironette. Ballerina? Well, damn, he was going to have to pry his eyes open to see what his drink addled mind seemed to have caught.

Trailing kisses along a wonderfully sculpted jaw, the masterful playboy pushed himself up as he drew his lovely bedmate to lay down. Leaning over the lean figure, he opened his eyes to peer to the person below him with witty charming words to invite and entice that lingered upon his tongue.

Hypnotically green eyes… eyes utterly unforgettable locked with his own. Eyes he KNEW. And even before he saw the weary bemused elegantly sculpted features Tony knew precisely who he'd been cuddling with.

"LOKI!"

"Not so loud in the morning, Man of Iron." The God of Chaos groaned before he rolled over, tugging the blankets with him to curl up in protection from the sun that glared through the blinds as the human suffered from a severe case of shock.

Loki. In his bed. LOKI was in HIS bed. "Holy fuck!" The words were choked as the billionaire scrabbled in a crab crawl away from the deity cocooned on his bed, falling to the floor with a yelp before he popped up like a prairie dog to peek to the entity he'd just been snuggling with. KISSING.

"I…what did you..."

Patting himself down rapidly with his heart racing in rapid thumps in his chest and adrenalin racing like quicksilver in his veins, the inventor investigated himself, relieved to see himself clad in a t-shirt and shorts. Dark brows drew together at he stared with a furious flush to the THING he'd found so…so… ugh… PLEASANT this morning. Said curled up THING lazily waved a pale hand idly before finally speaking.

"Your nightmares last night were loud and disturbing. When I came to quiet you, you latched on me like a kraken and refused to let go. So, I merely took my rest in your bed as I did not wish to incur your ire by breaking your hand." Finally, Loki did sit up with a rustle of sheets. Dark hair mussed and surrounded the pale face, clad in what appeared to be a soft green shirt hanging half open and loosely half off one pale shoulder and wait… was that a red MARK on his neck?

Mercifully for Tony, and the tick threatening the corner of his mouth, the God's inhuman healing made the mark vanish from sight. But Tony knew… he KNEW he put that mark there in his morning… affections… and damn it, if his treacherous mind didn't keep putting it right back there. The Avenger reached up to rub his eyes to clear the sight as well as his muddled mind as he grit out a gravelly word.

"JARVIS…"

"Can attest to what I explained."

"Indeed, Sir. Mr. Loki is quite accurate in his assessment. As he seemed to have quelled your night terrors and nightmare, I thought it best to not interfere." And was that dry mirth in the AI's voice? Or did Tony feel the entire world was laughing at him at this moment?

Still, Tony could not help but track that slender hand that reached up to rub over the fading pink spot on the slender sleek pale neck, and he noticed the shrewd look the God of Mischief was saddling him with. He waited for it. The jeers, the ridicule for what Loki had seen in Tony last night, a damning chink in Iron Man's armor.

"While I find your subconsciously OPEN expressions of appreciation amusing, I would appreciate if you would invoke the kindness to consult with me before proceeding to molest me, Stark."

Gripping the sheets into tight fists, the engineer crouched at the edge of the bed merely settled a flat look to the lanky figure that stretched lazily like a hunting cat.

"Uh, yeah… you're SO not my type, God of All Things Horny." Petulant, childish…. perhaps… but it was the first thing that came to Tony's mind… and damn, if he didn't regret it the second the words escaped his lips.

Pausing mid stretch with one arm raised above his head, Loki turned to look to the smaller male with those aristocratic brows raised before he leaned forward to stretch that lean limber form to prowl closer, bonelessly, to slowly settle one arm down before those fists gripping the sheets before he rested his other over it. A wicked devil's grin graced the Trickster lips as he stared with mischief sparkling eyes of mesmerizing emerald to the edgy mortal before he nestled his chin upon his crossed arms to meet the charmingly expressive mocha brown ones that stared at him with no little flustered confusion.

"Then does that make me…" Loki savored the words slowly, a sensual soft purr of that cultured voice that sent a shiver down the mortal's spine. "…your God?"

As Tony's lips parted… hesitated before he managed to cultivate words to throw back in a snarky remark, the damn God of Mischief pulled himself to peer OVER the edge of the bed to the morning wood he'd felt rather unexpectedly pressed to him in that snuggling that woke him in the most bizarre of manners. As Lil Tony saluted him merrily despite it's owner's misgivings Loki could not help but allow a slow indulgent smile to grace his lips to the perky thing that tented silken red shorts before the deity raising amused eyes to meet Tony's.

An audible click sounded loudly in the room's silence from Earth’s Master of Snark’s gaping jaw snapping shut. Tony's heartbeat pounded in his ears as the eccentric inventor flushed hotly as heat greeted his cheeks in a beloved color the inventor called Hot Rod Red.

"NOPE!" Snapping to his feet, the jittery jumpy human marched his way to the bathroom that beckoned as a sanctuary of sanity. "Nope nope nope nope…" And the door closed… only to open once more for the words to bolt out. "SO MUCH FUCKIN' NOPE!!!!" 

With a slam of the door that rendered a few frames upon the walls a tad crooked, the statement was punctuated. Emphatically. Lying back upon the bed, the God of Mischief laughed heartily, hands laced over his belly in unparalleled mirth. The mortal was unspeakably entertaining! If he had known, he would have toyed with him more in the invasion. Oh, but now… he had YET to enjoy seeing Tony's expression when he saw the greatest of Loki's pranks yet!

Good news and bad news go hand in hand with Tony. When one came, you can damn well bet the other one tagged along.

That's why when Tony emerged from his bathroom, showered and a bit more level headed, he found himself vastly relieved to see his bed devoid of an amused god he had SO not molested… and then tensing as Jarvis alerted him that there is a Mr. Barton upon his terrace. And that he'd missed 8 calls from Nick Fury.

Tony padded barefoot to the terrace as he toweled his damp hair off in a simple pair of sweatpants and a zipped up Iron Man hoodie. He eyed the blond perched upon the edge of the curved platform, peering down below with a slightly amused look. The cool winds ruffled the feathery hair as he watched something with grand interest as he absently chewed on a Nutrigrain bar.

"Sup' Tweety. I'm guessing the Wondrous One Eyed Weasel sent you? Whatcha lookin' at?" Tony inquired as he absently shivered, feeling the early bite gnawing on the edges of fall.

"Oh, just admiring the view, Bucket List." The archer sniped back with a grin, but, yes, it DID look like he was fixated upon something.

"Oh… good one there. My bucket list's shorter than everyone else's. But, hey… with Asgard open to us, now, I can add banging alien goddesses. Kind of funny how that works, huh. So what's so interesting?" Moving to the edge, Tony peered, squinting to try to see what the man with unusually acute vision may have seen. Oh, there was something… out of place down there. Something DEFINITELY largely abnormal. Tony bore a slight frown, trying to make out what the hell it was from this height.

"Well, for one thing, what Fury's frothing at the mouth about, Tony… the other, well, let's say it's a perk."

Raising his eyebrows with a glance askance to Clint smirking in his impish manner before he sighed, walking to the window. "Hey, Jarvis, show me what has my feathered friend all a twitter."

"Certainly, Sir."

And the thing he saw first… was a particularly stellar ass. Clad in jeans stained with honest work and a bit of gold paint… not too tight as to be fashionably impractical, but loose cut for easy movement and not too baggy to waste such a marvelous asset. The next thing he noticed, was when the person crouched… that it was very much a she, with long wild raven black hair pulled into a high braided ponytail for practical purposes and a button down shirt of a modest worker green cruelly covered what promised to be a sculpted torso and strained to cover a bountiful pair of breasts.

No WONDER why Clint was enjoying the view from his perch so much. With his nearly inhuman vision, he could probably see straight down the partially unbuttoned slightly opened top. Lucky bastard.

But, wait… what was she doing? Or more importantly, what is she doing it ON?!

And then it hit him. Smack dab in front of the still remodeling Avenger's tower was a massive monument, carved into what looks to be their stylized A taken from Stark's lingering logo, but sculpted with an obviously Norse flair with knot work, intricate sculpted designs and shameless Norse Runes. It's big. Grandiose.

Oh HO! THAT, right there, had Loki written all over it, and now he knew not only why Nick was wanting to contact him, but sent in one of his best spies.

"That smarmy sneaky green… Jarvis… I'm taking a wild guess on the WHO, but I want to know When this got here, and HOW?" Immediate steps lead Tony to the lift, and Clint followed smoothly behind. The marksman was torn between frowning in distaste at Tony's notions, and a faint smirk of amusement because… hey, hot chick possibly vandalizing the work of mayhem? What could be better?

"It seems, Sir, that Mr. Loki has erected a large edifice of an unidentifiable stone akin to marble with his undefined powers last night, while you were in the shower. He left a message stating 'I do what I want' before departing the scene of his mischief." Undefined powers. Magic.

"And you didn't think to mention this to me, WHY?"

"It seemed, sir, that you were a bit… preoccupied.. in the shower. And you seemed disinclined to listen to me after that point. As it seemed to be inert and harmless apart from being a blemishing decoration before the building, I decided you would know when you were ready, Sir."

Tony paused, in the lift, looking upward in surprise then turned a flat look to Barton. "That fucker is trolling us, isn't he."

With a wry snort, Clint folded his arms over his chest with a creak of leather, one booted ankle crossed over the other as he leaned back against the wall. "At least his prank isn't involving an eyeball, this time."

Grimacing slightly, Tony recalled what they'd learned about Stuttgart. Ugh. Brutal and… GOD, nightmarish as that was, Stuttgart actually had more fatalities on Clint's side than Loki's. What… one for an eye, but there were eight security guards sniped by arrows. Gross, yes… but Loki could have caused SO much more death. But, again… it was the bare minimum to get the job done. And, honestly… if he truly would have wanted to cause fear, Loki would have turned the crowd he was grandstanding to into a hellish blanket of bodies.

"Something tells me this is more the sort of mischief Thor is used to seeing from his batshit crazy brother. Think he might be getting back into his older ways, Clint?"

"I'll take tacky statues over alien invasions any day, Tony."

Something about that statement caused the genius to shrewdly squint and peer to his compatriot. It betrayed a lot of… well… he didn't have words for it yet, but he was thinking there's been more Clint knew from his time as the trickster's meat puppet. He'd think that the archer would be chomping at the bit for Loki's head. There should be more bloodlust, and yet, he seemed to be subdued about something. Maybe hiding something.

Any chances to probe deeper, however, were utterly quelled as the lift dinged softly before the doors opened with a soft hiss. It didn't take long for Tony to race through the crowd that began to gather, squirming his way to stand before the… well… MASSIVE stone edifice sitting in the middle of the walkway, and he furrowed his brows slightly. The marble hadn't been carved by human hands, that's for sure. Most likely from magic, judging by the fluid smoothness and almost impossible detail. That, of course, he could tell, because the woman was actually chipping away into the stone that made up it's tall wide base with old fashioned masoning tools.

"Whoah, hold on there Missy… what do you think you're doing?"

Stepping closer to the woman, he realized she was tall and built like a supermodel but clad in the humblest of manners for this task, sleeves rolled up as she tapped patiently and incessantly to dig into the impossibly hard rock.

"Turning something deplorable into something beneficial." Came the words, soft yet smooth, the voice almost smoky and languid. She stepped back as she dusted her hands off before she peered to the words already carved out. 'To those who will be Avenged and Remembered…' So, the writing looked to be straight out of Lord of the Rings with how beautiful the script was, however, Tony simply stared, cocking his head aside slightly. The words seemed to completely turn the taunt… into something else.

"So, you're basically defacing someone's defacement?" Clint applied the notion bluntly before he grinned grandly as he placed his hands on his hips. "Oh, this I have to hear."

Adjusting the darkly tinted glasses, the willowy woman crouched to dip a cloth into a bowl gently before she straightened. She then dabbed away the dust, smoothed, and cleaned the polished surface.

"I plan to make this a memorial statue. With, of course… your permission, considering this is upon your property?" The dark haired woman inquired as she turned her attention to the inventor who studied the craftsmanship of the edifice. It was a ridiculously contrasting thing in front of his super ultra modern tower. It looked like it belonged in a heritage site in Norway, not sitting like a cultural pimple in front of his tower. However… the woman's plans… well, that's one hell of a turn around… and he could only imagine how his new residential pain in the ass god would feel about someone toying with his prank.

Then again, with the number of phones and cameras doubtlessly recording this, he didn't want the Wrath of Pepper to fall upon his head for a bad PR issue. And so, Tony smiled grandly, wet hair tousled and a towel around his shoulders as he patted the unusually cool feeling stone casually. "Sure, what the hell! Avenge and Remember! If you think you can take on this task, I'll help you out." And he smiled, showman Tony gave just the right turn to share it with the recording and ogling crowd. "So what's you're name so everyone knows what's going on?"

"Loren Kirk."

Clint, however, shifted the philanthropist a dry look, rolling his eyes before he sighed, pluck his phone out. Really, he'd been watching the woman for about an hour… now the charismatic bastard swooped down like a persuasive vulture. Well, he may as well get the painful part of this out of the way. And so he called Fury with a dry look to the Billionaire who shared his Billionaire smile to the ogling public gathered. Then the media icon began to shoo them off like a woman would a yard full of chickens.

As he leaned against the stone with his shoulder, Tony quirked a dark brow as he peered to the woman who began to carefully and precisely paint the golden gilt into the carved ruts of the words.

"So… you're really planning on putting the names of the ones killed in New York during that fight with Loki on there?"

"Everyone."

"Why?"

"Because they must be atoned for."

"Well… do you need a list…"

"I already have one." She paused before she turned her attention to the smaller Avenger who shamelessly and doggedly attempted to hold a conversation with her. Rich toned lips drew into a lingering smile as she absently tapped a black painted nail upon the brush's wooden handle before she dipped it once more to collect gold paint. With skillful steady hands, Loren began to set those marks to blaze brightly in the dark stone with the luster. "Thank you."

"So, Loren… look, I don't know how safe it is for you to do this…"

"What have I to fear with the very Avengers here, hmm?"

Tony could not help but breathe a wry small grin.

"You're a strange tall lady, do you know that?"

"And you are a peculiar little man. Though, there is nothing wrong with that. It is part of your charm."

"Oh?" This earned a raise from a dark brow before the shameless playboy fell into old habits as he allowed a rapscallion grin to greet his features. "So you think I'm charming?"

A soft laugh escaped and she paused in the midst of her task to prevent her steady hand from twitching an ill meant bit of gold. "I find you an amusing man…" Her lips quirked and he could feel her eyes staring back from behind the tinted glasses, eyes of a delightful sharpness and cunning meeting his own. "… and your statuses as an Avenger as well as the infamous Prince Stark of the Stark Empire mean little to me. I simply enjoy the jester you make of yourself."

"Hoo boy…you shouldn't have said that." Clint muttered, groaning low as he caught those words.

"Prince Stark of the Stark Empire…" Tony mused as he observed the smirking woman painting the letters with care and precision. The engineer rubbed his goatee with his forefinger and thumb with a shameless smirk. "Hey, Clint… remind me to put that on my memos and stationary… in fact, tell your boss I won't answer anything he tells me unless he addresses me as Prince Stark of the Stark Empire.

As the blond shamelessly delivered a single fingered salute coupled with a generously amused smirk, Tony chuckled before he turned his attention to the woman before him.

"Look. Ms… Mrs…. Kirk?"

"Ms." The woman stated simply as she continued to bring those carved letters into brilliant lustrous life upon the monument, calmly seeming to dwell that pleasant peace an artist found within their work. "However, if the surname context is too difficult for you, Mr. Stark, then Loren will suffice."

"Oooh, whoa, if I don't get to use your last name, then you can't use mine. It'll only be fair if you call me Tony."

"Very well… Tony. If that is your choice." The words were spoken with a low smile of vast amusement as the woman continued with her task.

Soon, the crowds had dispelled, largely the curiosity of someone marking a hunk of rock deemed as not quite as interesting to actively watch, and Clint and Tony were soon the only two who remained sitting there on the steps. Tony vanished only briefly for a change into jeans and a tshirt and jacket, shoes, his phone, and his Stark pad as well as a trio of bottles of water.

Pepper, for once, was PLEASED with him, he found through the phone. Managing a positive PR stunt without damage control, and look… stock prices crept up as the pictures and videos became viral of the edifice. In a way, the people of New York felt acknowledged in a single person marking, boldly turning the work of their greatest demon into something eternal and memorable. That gained a good deal of positive feedback.

The common man liked to be represented. In this case, it was in the uncommon woman. Tony and Clint, however, found themselves amused by her sharp banter and cordial ways… though, there was no doubt despite her formal tones she had quite the biting tongue on her when it came to stinging taunts. And yes… the two rapscallions were shamelessly flirting, but it's obvious the woman was far from an easy catch, and she seemed far too inclined to dance and tease them back with creative plays of flitting around their praise and coy words, making it merely a game without stakes. 

By the time she finished with gold that stained that pale skin, Tony rose to saunter over to peer at the work with his hands settled upon his hips. The words seemed to practically leap off the stone, capturing the reader's attention with a vital importance. And, no longer did the plunked down joke rock seem to offensive.

"Y'know… it's kind of amazing. How different purposes change the same thing." Tony mused before he glanced to the elegantly casual woman before he raised an eyebrow… and pointed. "You have something… on your nose… right there…"

"Where?" She inquired as she instinctively touched her nose, unthinkingly, with a gold gilt finger. 

"Here?" And surely enough, where there hadn't been paint, there was then, and the engineer couldn’t help but grin as Clint laughed lightly. And her smile faltered slightly as realization struck,  turning it into a wry smirk.

"Dude, that's so not cool!"

"Oh, come on, it's just a little joke. And why are YOU laughing?"

Wordlessly, Loren shifted her paint pot in her hand,  before a hearty swat greeted the billionaire's backside shamelessly before she leaned in closer, murmuring close to Tony's ear. "Oh, my… my hand must have slipped. Do forgive me."

Effortlessly she breezed past as she began to clean her hands and the supplies. As the genius turned to peer to the woman he quirked an eyebrow, looking somewhat baffled. That was, until Clint had begun to make a bizarre choked snorting sound after a tell tale CLICK.

"What?! Don't tell me someone slipped pot seeds into your bird mix."

"Oh, no… not at all, Tin Man. Oh, yeah… speaking of which, where IS your bird?"

With the question, the glass jar clicked slightly as the woman glanced upward to the pair shrewdly, rich toned lips quirked into a secret smile before she began to tug her tools back into their leather case.

"Loki? Oh, he's my tomcat bird. He goes out, does what he wants and comes back for snacks and steal my cash and shiny things. Who knows. Maybe he's getting his groove on somewhere."

A low sigh escaped Clint as he rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. "You know… when you say THAT name and talking about 'getting a groove' on in the same breath… it kinda creeps me out."

The pair remain silent for a LONG moment, as their overtly fertile minds unfortunately supplied them with various notions.

"Uh… DOES he… I mean… can he…"

"Oh, for fate's sake, the Gods are individuals as well." The woman snapped in a tone of exasperation.

Another long silence filled the moment before Tony, in his infinite brilliance and wisdom snapped his fingers as he arrived at a solution no one in their right mind would have EVER considered.

"I got it!"

"Got what?" The archer inquired, dreading yet curious where Tony's overtly brilliant mind may have gone. The woman, gathering her belongings into a wooden box, also looked openly curious mingled with cautious intrigue.

"Loki. Maybe if we get him laid, he'll… y'know… mellow out."

"Awww DAMNIT Tony!!!" Clint roared as he rubbed his eyes to try to banish those words, shaking his head furiously. Why… why did the inventor HAVE to put THAT idea into his already slightly damaged psyche. It's bad enough that the mad god had…

And then the blond stiffened, his hand dropping to cover his mouth as his memory fell upon something, a particular moment he had pretty much been avoiding. Comical disgust settled into a troubled, yet pensive look as he drew his brows together. "Hey… Tony. Look, I need to go meet up with Natasha. I'll be back this evening, though. Are you gonna be alright for now?"

The genius did not miss this strange shift in the assassin's demeanor, however… casual facade was his specialty. He merely grinned, seeming to be oblivious to the man's serious shift. "Yeah, yeah. Going to grab lunch then head back to the Tower. Not planning on going far, and I'll have Jarvis keep an ear and make an alert if anything happens. In fact, I'm taking the lovely Ms. Kirk here to lunch, so, hey… all's good."

"Oh, you are, are you?" The woman intoned dryly as she closed her box with a sold click before she rose… the handle in one hand, her other nestled upon her hip.

"Well, I could cook for you, but… hey… I don't remember the number for poison control."

The mystery woman merely shook her head with a sway of the long black hair before she chuckled with a velvety soft throaty purr.

"Well, now… an offer of unpoisoned food is too generous to pass up."

"All right, make sure you're careful, old man." A casual smirk and a cheeky salute of two fingers were granted to the enticing woman from the archer. "And don't let this old playboy try to get you into the sack, I don't think his heart can handle it any more."

"Damn whipper snapper! Don't make me beat you with my walker!" Tony hollered to the man walking away, shaking an invisible walking device in taunt back to the younger Avenger before he sighed and turned to the smugly amused woman. "And, don't let him color your thinking. I'm not THAT old."

"It matters little to me what age you are as long as you are providing me a meal."

The shrewd brown eyes raised to the mischievous mysterious woman who seemed to be vastly amused with him… and oddly so easy in his company. And, strangely enough, he FELT as if he should have known this woman.

Did… he?

"I'd like to know one thing, Missy."

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"What IS your interest in me?"

"Well…" She drawled slowly as she stepped forward one step, then another, holding the wooden case rather casually by it's handle in both hands. "…it is neither for money… or an interview… nor a date."

Suddenly, Tony felt his heart lurching, stuttering in surprise as realization began to settle in. He'd only said those words once before. On the Bus. And as those glasses were dipped down to reveal utterly unmistakable green eyes, the world began to teeter. Amusement danced away from the warm toned lips as the woman snaked out an arm to sidle around the human's waist, an utterly inhuman strength supported him while looking to be merely an embracing gesture.

"Loki…"

"Hush, just breathe, Stark. Even breaths."

As his skewed vision began to resettle, he had, indeed found the Trickster’s resemblance in the woman's features and… sweet mercy… all this time…

"You… were my bird? Why the FUCK are you a woman?" He managed to hiss low through a strained whisper. Obviously vexed, he shook slightly in confusion: wondered exactly HOW convoluted this was going to be. Considering it was Loki, it's an entirely tangled bag of yarn.

"Hush, Stark… you invited me to stay in your tower. The AVENGERS tower. Did it not occur to you that your allies would be there? They would recognize my regular form?"

"Well, yeah… but…"

"And I have been keeping watch over you partially because there are enemies neither your allies nor myself want to see you get into sorts with unprepared."

Tony remained quiet for a loooong moment before he quirked an eyebrow slightly.

"And the OTHER reason you've been buddying up to me and stealing my fruit?"

"You were a wonderful resource and source of entertainment." Loki stated amiably with a generous smile… undoubtedly speaking the truth and oddly, it may have been more disconcerting than if the deity actually DID lie.

A brown eye twitched slightly. "Entertainment?"

"Oh yes. One truly comes to appreciate fine entertainment when they have the lifespan of gods."

"Oh, well, I’m SO glad I amuse you Your Godliness." Tony poured his entire surplus of snark and sarcasm to drip liberally off those two words. However, it was utterly wasted as the God of Mischief sighed deeply, pleased as if a wonderful gift had been given.

"You say such sweet things, Stark."

The human pulled away and turned to stare to the dark haired willowy woman who stood before him. Loki. As a woman. Fucking LOKI. The one he, and Clint had been talking to so amiably, and seemed to be content to play this bizarre game of masquerade. But more than strangely, she… he… WHATEVER… more than willingly gave away the truth to Tony. Why? Trust. That much was obvious. But why did Loki want Tony to trust him?

"Why are you doing… this?" Tony gestured to the edifice, obviously, now, intentionally… to him… to be some landmark.

"A promise."

"Come again?" The billionaire turned to look to the stone structure, not moving as the woman stepped smoothly to stand beside him as she gazed out over the smooth yet unmarred side below the A mounted on top.

"You presented unto me an ultimatum… a goal for our agreement. I will learn of your world and it's people… by learning and marking the ones deceased. Names have power, Anthony Stark… and when one signs a name upon a memorial, it is a promise to immortalize the name, as well as to swear to continue the future in their behalf."

Though softly spoken, there was something oddly… wise in those words. Harley did have a good point… this being was well over two thousand years old. He might have been in his rough 'coming of age' years, but there was no denying SOME wisdom may have come of his time. Quirking his lips slightly, Tony turned his attention up to Loki. The mad mortal squinted his eyes slightly to study the gently somber woman who spoke with such a profound eloquence. And… it was entirely unexpected. Of course, God of Chaos… nothing was supposed to make sense. However, this, the inventor sensed, was a vital important truth that Loki was sharing with him.

"So you really do want to have a positive impact on this world?"

"I prefer to think of it as repaying debts I owe. I am not nearly so sentimental and heroic."

With those words surprisingly mirroring Tony's own sentiments for becoming Iron Man, he finally allowed a soft smile to grace his lips. "All right, Bambi. You're trying in your own weird way… but at least it's a start."

As the engineer turned upon his heel, he tucked his free hand into his pocket, Pad clasped casually into his other hand.

"Well, a promise is a promise. Coming, LOREN?"

Loki could not help but bite her lips slightly, greatly amused at the brilliant golden hand shape generously imprinted on THE Tony Stark's ass. And furthermore, the man was obviously oblivious to the prankster's mark. And, as the little man made his sassy swagger down the sidewalk, she couldn't help but admire how delightful the view was.

"Oh, absolutely, of course." She cooed as she strode forward to join him. The long braid of hair swayed behind her shoulders as she ambled to catch up with the diminutive inventor. "Though, there is one little thing."

"Yeah, hot legs?" Tony inquired, turning slightly to eye the long legged raven haired woman beside him with a quirked brow before he was staring to his own wallet… the reddish leather bearing gold fingerprints upon it.

"You may wish for this back." The Goddess of Mischief remarked with a bright twinkle in her emerald eyes.

 

~~~

 

Mercifully, lunch was civil.

Fuck that.

It was actually downright FUN.

If he knew the highlight of his day would be taking a foreign god to a Chinese restaurant, he'd have done it sooner. He never knew there wasn't pasta in Asgard, and when the plate of flat rice noodles came to the table, he couldn't help but choke in ill concealed laughter as the woman went from elegantly pale after questioning the 'mucus soup' (Egg Drop) to turning a look of suspicious vellum white at what Loki inquired were pan fried tapeworms.

He couldn't help himself if his trick about the dumplings being marinated buck testicles made the deity choke… however, much to his delight and surprise… Loki never once turned down the food… trying each and eating without flat out turning anything away. Needless to say, she was far more receptive when Tony explained the nature of pasta and dumplings… even how the egg drop soups were thickened.

On the other hand, he should have realized Loki, despite his… her… winsomely willowy physique, would eat with a voraciously endless seeming appetite as Thor. Mercifully, the trickster had FAR better table manners; especially when it came to matters of glasses.

In a way, with those stained clothes, dressed to do anything BUT impress, dust and gold paint covered pale skin, and then ate with an obvious desperate appetite despite the cordial manners… Tony couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor devil.

And he'd realized… the man was alone. UTTERLY alone. Hell, to put it best, he was an intergalactic god bum… going from Prince to Pauper without so much as a peep, and he had barely the resources to provide for himself. Well, at least the BIRD thing made sense. He had a place to hide, shelter from the elements, food, and the sly bastard was even making money on the side.

And he bore it with surprising quiet dignity.

Mulling upon these thoughts, Tony sipped his tea. He considered what he'd seen of Clint's reaction to the 'getting laid' comment.

Maybe, just maybe… the assassin saw something of the pitiful proud creature when he was under the influence of the Mad God. Maybe he saw something that prevented him from hating the crazy bastard as much as he truly should. Tony knew he’d be out for blood if someone had been messing with HIS marbles.

Considering these thoughts, Tony turned his eyes to the woman who polished off a plate of sautéedsnow pea leaves.

"You know, Lo… I've been thinking."

"That is an astounding epiphany." Came the words with dry amusement, however, the deity seemed focused upon getting every bit of green and scrap of garlic off the plate.

"If the whole Chitauri fuck up thing didn't happen… if, y'know, if there was some cosmic 'restart' button, do you think we could have been buddies?"

The question brought a pause to the woman as she raised her head, furrowing her brows into a delicate look of thought. With a habitual flutter of those long elegant fingers she set the fork down as she sat back with a soft thoughtful frown.

"I cannot put stock in sentimental…" (trust) "…trivialities…" (needs) "such as friendship." Liar. The word echoed in Tony's mind. "However, I would think we would have made quite amiable acquaintances." And here, the inventor could not help but bear a wry smirk of amusement. Of course. In other circumstances, they'd have gotten along like chaotic wildfire, and a pity to anyone who was on the receiving end of their mischief.

"Uhuh. Well, good thing we're practical enough to know we have one hell of a handy business deal going on with each other for now."

"Quite." The painted lips quirked into that unmistakable crooked smile as those green eyes soften to a gentle mirth as the deity silently appreciated the simplicity of how Tony broke down such a complex convoluted tangle into basic components. Transaction. Beneficial. Like a happy useful parasite and a host, no sentimentality needed.

"Mr Stark! Your Lady friend has quite the appetite!" As the strongly accented voice greeted the pair, Tony's face lit with pleasant surprise as he rose, reaching out to shake the hand of the older gent who approached to greet them.

"Oh, hey! Mr. Huong! Yeah, she'd been working pretty hard… got an enviable metabolism. Chen Huong, I'd like for you to meet Loren Kirk. She's working on a project by my tower, so I thought I'd treat her to lunch. How's business?"

"Oh, good… very good. It is a little difficult without my wife to help run the restaurant, but we have young help." There was no mistaking the gentle mix of bittersweet fondness and pain.

Turning slightly to meet Loki's eyes pointedly, the engineer spoke gently but with a definite purpose.

"Lo, Mr Huong here lost his wife when the attack came from the Chitauri. A bus went right into his storefront." Loki remained silent… still for a long moment, silently meeting those brown eyes, and it seemed as if she needed an utter jumpstart in the start to respond.

"My condolences, Mr Huong, for your loss." Loki spoke, cordially and softly as she turned her attention to the salt and pepper haired man who smiled with a painful pinch. And, in a startling action, she rose and pushed the chair out beside her and patted the seat. "Please… sit."

Please? Did that snobby, aristocratic prideful bag of cats just use the P word?

Tony could only stare as she placed one of those long pale hands in a semblance of warmth over the older gent's subtly gnarled hands, toughened by the fires of a wok and years of chopping seasoning and meat.

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

 

~~~

 

"UN-FUCKING BELIEVABLE!!!"

Tony turned, nearly fit to burst like a soda bottle shaken too hard and put into a hot car, as he glared to the woman who calmly, thoughtfully even… strolled out of the elevator behind the smaller human. He'd been brewing slowly as he watched what, to him,  seemed to be a farce… as this deceptive wily woman encouraged the man to tell stories of his dearly departed wife. Which, coincidentally, Loki was RESPONSIBLE for the death of.

"How can you patronize him like that?!" The smaller man rounded upon the taller woman with a persistent vehemence that drew her up short. Loki merely glossed him over with a look of vague annoyance as she absently rubbed one of her fingers along her lower lip in deep thought.

"I was not patronizing him, Stark." Softly, a low sigh escaped the woman as she dropped to sit upon one of his leather chairs with a graceful flourish, one leg crossing elegantly over the other as a plume pen was plucked, seemingly, from thin air, as well as a leather bound book. And then… she began to dance the tip over the page.

"Then what the hell was that? You killed this woman, how can you possibly give a rat's ass about her life? You obviously don't think an ant's much to a boot, right?" The livid man stalked forward, brittle and ill pleased that she seemed to be IGNORING him.

" 'To those who will be Avenged and Remembered'." Loki spoke softly, simply as she fluidly drew the quill's tip with gentle scratches over the paper. "…that is the promise I make, not you, the Avengers." She paused briefly to raise those haunting viridian eyes to the confused chocolate toned ones before her. "I will add her name and image to the monument."

"You…. wait… what?" Tony paused, then leaned in closer to peer to the page. The image of Mrs. Huong was drawn in a stylized, but accurate semblance to the photograph the older man had shown, kept lovingly in his wallet.

Slowly, the inventor sank to sit upon the arm of the chair as tension melted away with an odd mingling of guilt… and wonder. "I… wasn't expecting that."

"I am the God of Chaos, do you recall?" The woman remarked blithely before she began writing upon the next page, documenting, it seemed, one of the stories the older man had told her.

For someone who scorned sentimentality so much, this sure was a LOT of care being made.

Then again, how else but an immortal's hand would ensure that someone's memory would last?

"You know… I'm beginning to see how people were off put by you in Asgard."

Venom green eyes slowly raised to the mortal who, perhaps, may have traipsed into dangerous territory. Tony merely raised his hands in a peaceable gesture.

"I've just been putting some pieces together from what you've been telling me and what Thor told me… but Asgard isn't much for 'change' or anything abnormal. I'm thinking that it's pretty set in it's ways, and when you come in and pop up surprises people aren't anticipating or doing things people are expecting… I'm sure it ruffles a lot of feathers. And I KNOW that shit gets misconstrued or distorted in that kind of people's minds."

As the mortal settled into the chair beside Loki with a rueful wince, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, I'm guilty of the same damn thing, so I'm not condemning you. Just… look. Work with me here, all right? Help me to help you. It's bad enough I don't understand regular people. But aliens? That's a whole new ball game. And Lokiland? Phew… I need a map to figure out what's going on in that head of yours. All I'm saying… is cut the cloak and dagger bullshit with me, and tell me what you need for THIS to be successful. So you want to pay off your debts. I get that. Really… I do. But don't think you don't have to do it alone."

"This is that Yensen matter again, is it not?" The woman settled a dry wry look upon the man perched beside her.

"That's right, Lo, and I'm a persistent bastard, so you may as well give up trying to do this alone, because I'll be there to help you when you need me, and tell you 'told you so' when you ignore me."

The genderbent trickster could not help it as she tried to stifle her laughter into her hand.  She failed… laughing softly as she sat back in the seat, easily far more comfortable. And this, in turn, brought a grin to Tony.

"See, Lokster? Not so bad."

"You are a strange creature, Mortal."

"Hey, old man… er… woman… damn this is weird. Forgot my name, already?"

Loki's lips quirked into a devious smirk as she reveled in the verbal confusion of the brunette who seemed to be still thoroughly baffled by her appearance.

"No, Anthony, I haven't. But you tend to forget mine. Are you allowed pet names and not I?"

A sheepish wince escaped the engineer as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah.. touché. Good point. Oh… hey… I GOTTA ask."

"Yes?" Loki inquired as she continued to write amiably, contentedly calm in the pursuit.

"Is it… uh…. real?"

Slowly, Loki raised her head, peering shrewdly to the antsy mortal trying NOT to stare at her chest. However, she simply could not help herself. She decided to toy with the playboy’s nervous sheepish skirting around a topic he apparently thought he might trigger an unpleasant reaction for. Oh. This SHOULD be fun.

"Is what real?"

"Y'know… all of this… I mean… is this some sorta optical illusion… or are…y'know… THESE…" And comically so, Tony hefted his hands about chest level with an unabashed curiosity and made a shameless squeezing gesture. "Y'know… REAL?"

It honestly took everything within Loki's power not to outright laugh, however, it obviously showed in those bright green eyes, mirth dancing capriciously and madly as those luscious lips pulled into an amused smile. Oh, this was TOO entertaining. Placing a ribbon upon the page of the book, she carefully set it and the quill aside and freed her person for his unhindered view.

"Well, being a man of science…" She teased, taunting the man in a delightful dare. Loki was curious to see how far Stark’s own curiosity would push him. "…how would YOU determine it?" Propriety and hesitation took back seat as the scientific genius leaned forward, vastly intrigued at the question presented to him.

"Well, as for optical illusions I would…"

"Sir, I thought I should inform you …"

"Is this a code red situation?"

"No..."

"Then not now, Jarv, kinda in a discussion right now…"

"But…"

"Mute Jarvis."

And no further voice of his butler could intrude upon his thoughts.

How best to tackle such a subject?

"An optical illusion is just bending the light, right… so I might SEE one thing, but that just veils something else." Up the genius had risen from his seat to unconsciously pace his thoughts out.

"Very true." Loki nodded thoughtfully as she found the man's scientific train of thought utterly amusing to observe.

"So a tactile test would be the best means to determine… uh…may I?" Tony turned, holding his hands to the curvaceous forms veiled by the shirt. And here, for the brazen boldness, Loki must certainly reward the precocious mortal. Anyone else? They'd be writhing in creative pain or delivered such a withering denial, it would shrivel their pride. But there was something almost childlike in his eagerness for discovery.

As if Loki's breasts held the very secret to a surprising scientific breakthrough.

"Very well, I am curious to see how your exploring mind is working, proceed with your experiment." Loki waved a graceful hand in a smooth elegant gesture of nonchalance and arched her back to better present the rounded forms under the fabric of her shirt.

"Thank you. Now… let's see…" Reaching out to the semi coarse material of the shirt, Tony was half expecting to see his fingers drift through some sort of sparkling mirage, to feel leather underneath. But… nope. It was a shirt. And as he began to draw his hands over her chest, pressing amidst the folds of the shirt… yup… those were solid and round. But, the material was terribly durable and hard to feel very well through. Damned Dickies and their efficient grade fabric.

"Hmm… feels kinda real, but there could still be falsies. Do you mind if I…" His hands hovered over one of the buttons, glancing up to the obviously amused woman.

"OH NOT at ALL…" Loki drawled as she nested her elbow on the arm of her chair, resting her cheek upon her palm as she stared to the man who'd FOUND a way to turn groping into a method of research. Oh, well done, Stark. It was going to be rather amusing, considering the faintest of sounds that hummed in the now suddenly quiet room.

"Thanks." And without preamble, the buttons were flicked undone with a well practiced skill. One after another, the closures parted  until he tugged the fabric away to reveal a pair of creamy pale breasts. Work calloused warm hands trailed with a surprising caressing care over the soft flesh: tested the pliability, even searched for the seams of potential falsies. Nope. These certainly felt attached. Next, his hands began to stroke, kneading slightly. "These are really remarkable, Loki… and a hell of a wonderful pair. They're definitely real, there's no mistake about that…" And as his thumbs flicked over the rosy nipples, causing them to bud, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "…pretty responsive, too."

"Stark…" The way his name is spoken, smoky and almost husky, low… drew Tony's attention up to the woman whom's breasts were currently being groped in his hands, and he caught that subtle pink hue to her cheeks. Was she… biting her lower lip? He suddenly hoped… REALLY hoped… that it's in trying to keep from laughing at him. "Have you reached your conclusion satisfactory?"

Just to test THAT theory he flicked his thumbs over those perky pink buds and.. oh… she gave a slight twitch before suddenly, there was a soft hiss as she sat straighter.

"Holy FUCK, Tony, you HORN DOG!" Clint's voice boomed into the room. Immediately, the engineer was up in a fumble to stand and held his hands above his head in surrender to a hypothetical shooting squad as he turned to face the startled looking blonde that stood just past the elevator.

"Whoah whoa WHOAH! I was … her breasts, I was just making a professional test to see how real they were!"

"And your conclusion?" Loki inquired with grand mirth as she began to button her shirt back up, looking unabashed and genuinely amused as she observed between the pair of flustered men.

"As natural as a pair of twenties." Tony sighed, almost fondly, before he was greeted by the withering look Clint leveled on him.

"What?! That's the truth!" That look did speak of disbelieve, indeed. "Seriously Jarv tell… oh wait… UNmute… Jarvis, tell him I was just checking them to see how real they are!"

"Rest assured, Agent Barton, that my Master is quite the connoisseur of breasts and let me further point out that his scientific experimentation in this matter was both quite proficient and thorough."

"Very, VERY thorough…" Came a pricelessly amused tone from the woman who relished that moment of chaos. Tony's look of tormented disbelief was sent first to her, then his eyes close as he rubbed them.

"Thanks, but that doesn't help… and Jarvis, THAT's not helping either!"

"I cannot lie in my observations, can I, Sir?"

Clint rolled his eyes before he shook his head, stepping within  to stalk to the bar in order to collect a pair of beer bottles. "Look, Stark… if you can keep from molesting the pretty stranger, can I have a word with you outside?"

The woman rose with a languid stretch and turned to look to the Billionaire. "I am feeling rather filthy at the moment… may I borrow your shower and a change of clothes, Tony?"

Snapped from his momentary hypnosis of watching that illegally graceful form, the inventor levelled the woman a long deeply thoughtful look before he waved his hand. "Room's that way, Jarvis will direct you to find what you need." With her lips drawn into a soft smile, she tilted her head aside somewhat.

"Despite your vulgar persona, you are rather generous soul, do you realize that?"

Pursing his lips at the odd complement, the eccentric man flapped his hand. "Shoo… shoo." And thusly, she laughed lightly as she followed the AI's lead.

Turning to Clint, he accepted one of the bottles as he padded along after the man outside and settled to sit beside him on the terrace platform.

"So, what's on your elven mind, Legolas?" Tony drew a casual sip from the imported beer.

"Torture."

And promptly performed a spectacular spit take over the city of New York. Coughing and hacking mightily, he strained to regain control of his respiratory system before he snapped a look to the man beside him.

"What… the fuck?"

"I believe, Loki had been tortured. By the Chitauri." The man frowned and furrowed his brows as if he disliked the taste of his words. However, Tony didn't know if Clint disliked that someone was tortured, or that he disliked that he disliked the thought of it being Loki tortured.

"All right, I'm all ears. What gives you this idea?"

Absently, the archer drew a lingering sip of the beer, the bubbly brew glowed golden in the drifting sunlight that illuminated them. "When I was under his control, he kept me closest than anyone else. You know me… I have a good eye for things and I'm sneaky by nature. I just… caught him at times. He was…" Drawing a deep breath, the assassin turned his gaze to Tony. "You would know what's it's like. You know… when you think no one can see you and you let your guards down? It was like that. His 'Evil Overlord' front would crumble and there he'd be…. sitting in a corner or a hidden spot like… well… like this."

Shifting slightly back, Clint huddled in upon himself, hugging an invisible staff and looked every bit like a wounded fox hiding, waiting for the hounds baying on his trail and hoped they pass his hiding spot. That position… Tony knew all to well…

"PT fuckin' SD." Iron Man breathed with a bitter reverence before he sucked a deep gulp of his brew then exhaled a breath. "Y'know… it all happened so fast, it was hard to figure out WHAT was going on at the time, much less what was going on in a person's head."

He paused, then began to test a theory out… another piece to add to this puzzle they've been shuffling around for a while. Like the elephant in the room that spies and genius KNEW were there, but to try to explain it would destroy their view of reality.

"Hey, Clint… d'ya remember his eyes? What color they are?"

"Blue… electric blue." Clint replied… before he squinted, seeming to gnaw at a memory. "Though, they DID look a more greenish caribbean blue at times…"

"They're green." The inventor proclaimed before he turned his attention to Clint who stared back to the inventor with a wary disbelief.

"Are ya sure, box of scraps? Are ya absolutely SURE?"

Tony tilted his head back, gulping down the drink a bit more before he sighed. The genius held the bottle up to catch the sunlight, the liquid seemed to glow like magical liquid amber. "I'd bet my life on it, Birdy Boy. When he had my heart, literally, in his hands… I remember his eyes. And those fuckers… they were green."

A lingering silence drew between the pair that to slowly, tentatively, pressed their puzzle pieces together.

"Didn't that battle seem kinda… uh… cocked up?" Clint finally inquired slowly, hesitantly as if unsure if his theory might even hold some validity.

"What, you mean like how a BC aged mastermind left boulder sized crumbs to mark his trail, blinking neon signs telling ‘X marks the spot’, and manipulated us to work together into the most solid team possible?"

"Yeah, and how that portal was so fucking EASY to turn off… and that he conveniently 'dropped' the key near it?"

"Y'know, this wiz-kid pointed out to me his battle plan was all concentric: aimed towards the LEAST destruction and not hitting vital locations… and let me tell you… that rift? Fucking eye of a needle… couldn't squeeze that armada I saw on the other side through it." Tony shuddered suddenly at that recollection before he drew a deep breath, finally he dropped his eyes down to the rock art far below them.

"Tony, I wanted to hate him, I really did. After having that crazy fucker in my head, trust me… I wanted to put an arrow in his eye. But… but I kept thinking about how I saw him. All…crumbled up and… well… it looked pretty fuckin' pitiful. I really don't think he wanted to be any part of the Chitauri… and I REALLY don't think he wanted to rule this world. What the hell warlord hell bent on domination looked that much like a kicked puppy behind the scenes?"

"One who doesn't want to do it, I'm guessing.Then again, if he hadn't been the demon we saw at the time, we wouldn't have been as strong and united as we were." Tony hummed the words as he raised his eyebrows slightly before he turned his attention to the city below them. "The more and more I think about this… the more and more his asshole world dominator mask seemed to crumble. Take that mask away… well, he's still an ass." Tony hesitated, before granting a quirky self deprecating grin. "Then again… So am I." Like an arrow of playful peaceable accusation, he pointed his bottle towards Clint. "And so are you, birdbrain."

A low wry snort and a smirk escaped the assassin as he raised amused grey eyes to Tony.

"That's why we get along."

"That, and we all have blood on our ledgers, don't have family, and Fury's got a shitlist a mile long on all of us. Even good ol Capsicle."

Clint laughed a bitter wry sound as he reached over to tap his bottle to Tony's with a chiming clink. "Amen to that, Tin Man. Amen to that."

An easy camaraderie settled between them as they watched as the sun began to set below them. "So… Tony, ARE you trying to get your short stuff between those long legs of the mystery girl?"

Mercifully, Tony was fresh out of his drink, no more Tiger beer to blast upon the wind.

"Hugh…ack… hah… No way… NO way!" Pausing, he settled the man a flat look. "My last relationship put me into the hospital, I want to at least run out of my meds before going back."

Clint then bore a rapscallion grin as he rubbed his hands with a boyish glee. "Aheheh! All good for me, then."

A wry snort escaped Tony before he rolled his eyes. "Oh please. She's not your type, Silver Hawk."

"Oh, and tell me HOW she's not my type, Rust Bucket?"

The billionaire bore a wicked grin, and with that goatee, he could be the devil himself. It didn't help he wore a Megadeath shirt, either.

"Let's say she's a 'Bangkok Special'."

Silence reigned for a long moment… before Clint narrowed his eyes upon the man beside him.

"Yeah, and how would you know how to find one of those?"

"Been there, done that, before, good buddy." And here Clint wrinkled his nose slightly as he glared to Tony. "Interesting story, too… got half way through the usual than HELLO, there's a fry in my Happy Meal..."

"Dude, don't you have ANY boundaries?"

To which, the inventor spread his arms wide and grinned grandly as he shared that dazzling show host smile with his comrade in arms.

"I'm Tony Stark, baby!"

Clint merely guzzled back the remainder of his beer as he eyed the man beside him with a leery wariness.

"Did you finish?"

"You bet your feathered ass!" Tony crowed, utterly devoid of either shame or temerity. "…over and over and…"

"So…" Clint cut his teammate off before any other juicy details escaped. "…you're saying Ms. Kirk is a Transvestite."

"Why else would I be assessing her boobs?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Update: More revised fun! Getting closer to getting these babies posted. Not only do I edit and revise, but when I copy and paste into AO3, I have to go delete extra spaces by hand, so it takes a little time getting these up. More to come!
> 
>  
> 
> Older notes:  
> Wow, look at this... ANOTHER chapter so fast. Blame it on me being sick as a dog. Blame all grammatical errors on them, too. Thank you SO much for everyone who's kind enough to read, Fav, bookmark... and especially, respond! I love trading thoughts and ideas with you all!
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with a sliderule would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des). Now, for the goodies:
> 
> 1\. Bangkok Special: When I was in the Navy, I'd heard this as a code term for Transvestites. I personally love people of all gender/ persuasions/ etc. I just have Tony and Clint talking as...well.. GUYS. And, yes... Tony IS talking out of his ass about Loren being a Transvestite.
> 
> 2.Chinese Food: Which, I LOVE. I had to sit and look at a meal and ponder how someone from outside of our world might see our cuisine.
> 
> 3\. Loki is Roki is Loren Kirk. It's a straight as an arrow flow chart.
> 
> 4\. Breasts: Oh COME on. Tony's new to the whole 'shapeshifter' thing. He's also a professional pro-vert. Of COURSE he'll be curious on finding out how real Loki's form is.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another. And look! They're building.
> 
>  
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	7. Seven for a Secret Never to Be Told (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony VS Clint... the flirting wars begin! Loki meets Tony's kids, and the engineer learns a thing or two about Alien metabolism. Also, Tony has no shame, except when he's on his own. Then it comes rushing back.
> 
> Pack a lunch, because this is a looooooooong chapter.
> 
> I apologize for loading this a bit late, I've been busy with College. And, I'm going to be up to my eyeballs, soon, in doing even MORE Colleging (yet, I turned it into a verb), so I can't promise speedy postings. But they WILL come! 
> 
> Warning: Here there be a lil naughty, but expect it to really start ramping up in the next few chapters!

Tony Stark was a vain narcissist. That was neither an opinion or even a hypothesis. It was far more than a mere theory.

It was a universal fact, as pure as gravity which pulled the objects upon the Earth towards its center. So it would be natural that he should enjoy putting his name upon everything he deemed exceptional, of high quality, or more importantly… his.

Therefore, he found it innately pleasing for his ego to be stroked… far beyond his better judgment… by seeing his name emblazoned across a marvelous behind. 

A well formed ass clad in the spare workout pants he kept for guests. A loose garment utilized for the company gym and workout programs… and a personal delight to see his name upon every presented bottom in the downward dog in the Yoga classes he popped in on to enjoy. Limberness was good for fighting. Right? Right.

Right then, the particularly beckoning bottom clad in the royal blue workout pants belonged to his ‘enemy’. Well, he was still calling Loki that for the sake of SHIELD's paperwork. He was not about to start filling forms any time soon, and like hell would be make a report. Unless it was about Loki's ass. Wait. Loki's ASS. Why is he thinking of the God of Chaos like this?

Thor's brother? That, right there, was like a merciful bucket of ice water on his mind, and the inventor shuddered with a blink, shaking his head. Immediately, he rose to walk to the bar to gather himself a decently stiff drink to try to clear that notion from his mind, and to avoid seeing the sight before him.

Clint, like the shamelessly adorable lusty puppy he was, sat closely beside the woman who leaned against the bar discussing, of all things, her interest in Norse art and mythology.

"Y'know… there's a Norse art exhibit coming up in December. Apparently there's a big charity gig there the Avengers have to go to for it's opening. Might be more fun if you come along…" Clint remarked casually as he grinned to the woman beside him, ignoring the glittering gold word of 'Diva' written in stylish script across her bountiful bosom. Unfortunately the image of Tony Stark's face was under it, just as sparkly. Oh, he knew that shirt. He gave it to the inventor for the billionaire's birthday. Nice to know it was being put to good use.

Tony merely breathed a soft irreverent snort as he clinked ice into the tumbler with soft chimes one at a time. Oh please, that was the most obvious come-on. And he almost felt sad for Clint.  He was TRYING to keep the younger man from getting himself into a particularly nasty tangle should he realize WHOM he was hitting on. Even though part of Tony DID want to see that. With popcorn.

The ravishing woman quirked an artful brow, the long ebon locks falling in still damp curls past her shoulders and down her back framed her elegantly carved features in a wild beauty. She was striking, and a part of Tony lamented that ‘she' was completely off his board. But knowing what he did, he could see the God of Mischief in the temptress' features.   
  
That really messed with his mind.

"How sweet of you. Would this be an invitation of a formal nature, in regards to the memorial?" Loren inquired, unexpectedly slipping a sly out, as well as a lifeline… and Tony grabbed onto it with both proverbial hands.

"You bet, Sweetcheeks." He remarked as he turned to mull over his assortment of alcohol upon the lit shelves before he plucked a bottle of Lagavulin 12 yr old scotch. Even as he rubbed his finger over his neatly trimmed beard upon his chin, he could feel the gaze boring into his back from a pair of eyes. No… wait… TWO.  One disapproving, the other… well, VERY intense and laced with something he could not quite place. Still, it raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Sweet… cheeks?" Came the smoky voice: questioning, yet laden with an edge of ALMOST playful warning. He wouldn't consider it light hearted, nor viciously dangerous. It reminded him of that darn dominatrix and THAT brought a visible shudder down his spine.

"Oh, don't mind him. That’s Tony Stark: rich boy and shameless Playboy. He's so much of a pervert, he's a pro-vert." Clint's remark came wry, dry, and OH so welcome to Tony. The man may not know he'd saved his bacon, but his timing was impeccable, even unintentionally. "How many sexual harassment charges have you had to deal with?"

Turning, Tony flashed a dazzling winning grin, unloading the standard Stark charm as he poured the amber liquid into the tumbler: the rich honeyed tone liquid captured the light with a regal luster.    
  
"Which ones? The gold diggers making false claims, Blog Bimbos looking to make news, the Politically Correct Nazis, honestly slighted workers, or the ones who dropped the charges after they slept with me?" If he was going to be accused, well now, why deny when he could bask in it? He'd been called worse. The Merchant of Death, for one.

Clint, however, could only stare, surprised that his team-mate would so openly state something so scandalous… so proudly. He'd been expecting denial, redirection, possibly even a threat. "Are you… serious? You're joking, right?"

An entertained smile was gracing those plush lips of the goddess as she leaned against the bar, resting her chin upon her palm as she observed the mortal with a suddenly renewed amusement. Oh, she'd heard he was promiscuous. This, however, was a whole new level of sexual shamelessness that she could appreciate. Stark used it as a tool, and apparently he handled the tool well if he seemed to be hardly bothered by repercussions.

"Nope. Serious to a T. And, by the way, any rumors of errant accidental ‘Mini Me’s are completely false." He paused, then absently picked up the glass, swirling it slowly to chill the scotch with the ice as he mused over a memory. "Though, there was that time a pair of Russian sisters tied me down and tried to steal a sizable amount of free samples for the black market.  Luckily, Happy knew my timing and habits too well and came in the nick of time to prevent them from getting away. Man… was I sore after that…"

He paused as he jerked from his past musings, the almost dopey fond smirk faded as a loud thud disturbed his trip down memory lane. He turned his attention to Clint's head now planted on the bar, a low groaning coming from the archer who desperately tried to cover his ears. "Oh god… make him stop..."

"My my, such a harrowing experience." The dark maned woman murmured with a purr of amusement as bright emerald eyes sparkled in unfettered mirth. The temptress purloined the glass from Tony's hands with a victorious smirk as the inventor blinked at the sudden loss of his precious drink just before it reached his lips. He stared, instead, to the dark haired woman who indulged in the rare scotch with a smug amusement. She savored the taste with a flick of a pink tongue over warm toned lips, and catching Tony entirely off guard.

Well, at least Clint's prayer had been answered. Stark was utterly at a loss for words. She simply reached out to pat the archer's taut honed shoulder gently. "There, there. I will come to this event as a guest of the Avengers."

This seemed to bring a perk to the blond marksman, and he grinned grandly, delighted by the presence of the lovely woman that joined them. Well, even if she wasn't HIS date, she'd still be there. Tony, on the other hand, was beginning to realize something as he began fixing himself another drink. 

Loki didn't just make a female form well. 

He KNEW how to be a female, and dammit, doesn't the crazy nut cluster know how to abuse female charms and wiles. Obviously this wasn't Loki's first gender bending rodeo. Something told him, the fallen prince has used it in the past countless times to raise hell or get his way. Tony could only feel a profound new respect and sympathy for Thor. 

Going through puberty with a younger brother that could imitate the most wanton wench? No wonder why the poor man seemed so over protective of his sibling. It was like having a younger brother and sexy little sister all in one. The brawls for Loki's honor must have been disastrous. Possibly legendary.

And WHY the hell did his mind go off on that tangent?

Shaking his head, he then sipped his drink as he stole a look to ‘Loren’ who seemed to take a mild mirth in the archer's boyish delight. He should probably make sure the hawk didn’t get carried away.

"Congrats, Cinderella.” Tony remarked with a crooked grin. “You're coming to the ball. Don't worry, Pep makes an awesome Fairy Godmother. I'm sure she'll help you shop." At least THAT way, he knew Loki wouldn't be coming in looking like Barbarilla or Queen Elizabeth the Second. With the suspicious look Clint was leveling him, the engineer rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Don't give me that look. Starving artist… duh. She'll need resources and I don't mind helping. See? I'm a nice guy, really I am!"

An irreverent snort escaped the assassin who leaned his elbow on the bar's smooth granite top as he jabbed a finger at the man before him. "Bullshit! You're hitting on her!"

Mocha eyes rolled with an exaggerated exasperation as the inventor exhaled a huff of wry denial. "Oh please, you were hitting on her first. And, honestly, I don't need to use subtle means to present my interests to a lady. See, that's what my wit and charm are for, Birdeye."

"How sweet, the mighty Avengers fighting over me. You certainly know how to make a woman feel… wanted." Loki purred, teasing Tony intentionally with a hardly subtle (at least to him) reference of how the Avengers had bickered and fought over Loki before: as a male and a supposedly captured criminal. That smile, too, upon her lips was utterly criminal, and captured Tony's attention raptly for a second before he pried his gaze away with a hearty drink of his scotch before he met Clint's disbelieving challenging glare. Oh… this was so on. For the both of them.

And Tony knew exactly how to hit two birds with one stone.

"All right, fine. Let me show you how it's done, Clint. Watch and learn."

Moving around the bar with a sure stride, a confidence and swaggering allure filled the billionaire's movements. All at once, there was the amorous predator that is Tony Stark. He'd made attraction and seduction into a fine art, even in t-shirts and sneakers. 

A smile laden with charm greeted Loki as he slunk beside the taller woman before he hopped with a jaunty vault to sit upon the barstool. Tony leaned closer to the disguised demigod, a hand rested upon the bar behind her as he approached intimately close, and yet not having invaded her space.

"Hey, baby, do you know how I'm certain you're an alien?" He purred the words as he half lidded his eyes and it took everything in his willpower to keep a suave straight face as the lovely woman went from casually amused and indulgent to alert and wary. Oh… so Loki thought he may well give their little secret away in front of Clint?

"How?" Came the word, clipped and tight: laden with warning. A flash of those green eyes spoke of secret peril as Tony shamelessly flirted with danger.

"Because…" He pitched his voice to that low intimate tone… oh, certainly loud enough for Clint to hear, but a tone he KNEW women tended to lean in a little closer to him in response. Already, Loki was doing precisely that, even if she was bristling like a deadly porcupine beneath a lady-like veneer.

"…your ass is out of this world." It was priceless to see the range of emotions that capered across those lovely crafted features. First suspicion. Then shock… confusion… realization, and was that… a hint of a flush? Finally, she was laughing at him, and yet, she shamelessly sidled closer to him before she snaked her arm around Tony's waist and came unsettlingly INTIMATELY close to him. 

And then, it was Tony's chance to grow tense and slightly flustered. Damnit! Tony didn't get nervous around women. But when it was a guy who was the woman, and that guy could level New York… kill in a heartbeat… and heaven forbid, call his BROTHER if Tony did anything untoward to him… this reeked of danger. Bad for his health. And dammit, why the hell did this gender bending nutcase have to smell so GOOD?! It was wrong on so many levels.

And worse, it made the verbose tinker at a loss of words.

Clint… mercifully, wasn't at a loss.

"Aww, man! That's SO not right! How the hell can you use a geeky cheesy pick-up line like that without getting slapped?" The archer groused, veritably pouting adorably before he raised puppyish eyes to the woman the pair seemed to be in a friendly war over.

"I'm Tony Stark." Is the only answer the engineer could reply, and even then… those words weren't laden with the usual smug bravado and polished with his ego. The way he'd stated that he was Tony Stark… wasn't in the trademark Tony Stark way. This seemed to capture the assassin's eye, earning a shrewd look as playful banter and girl chasing took a back seat. Something was off with his friend… and a tad too late, the genius is recalling that the archer was, indeed, a SPY as well. Damn!

"Yeah… Tony, are you all right? You're looking a little… edgy?"

"Ah, I believe he is waiting to be accused of 'sexual harassment' yes? The other shoe to drop?" Loki smoothly interjected as she set her glass down before she began to toy with the erratically styled brown locks of the shorter human, knowing it was setting the man on edge. "Hmm… yes, would I file a charge? After all, I DO have a witness…" And now she finally patted the mortal's head before shaking her own. "No. As long as he provides me dinner for his bold approach, then I should consider him forgiven."

Bless Loki and his lying smooth silver tongue… and as Clint shifted from concern to wry annoyance at the turn of events, he silently thanked the deity for saving his bacon.

"Food, right. Dinner would be a good idea. With your metabolism, you must be starved."

"I have been hungry for an unpleasantly long time… to enjoy such food is a pleasure. Can you not blame me for coercing you for a little to eat?"

Caution eased away as Tony began to look thoughtful as he studied the woman still cozied up beside him, wondering. Loki… WAS looking a tad healthier… but when he'd been in New York last, he'd been borderline gaunt… those dark circles around his eyes and more steely defined shadows of his face of course granted the man a more sinister appearance. Had he REALLY been starved? Then again, if someone was a prisoner… or tortured as he and Hawkeye may suspect… he shook his head to clear it before tapping the god's hip gently twice with his hand in silent acknowledgment for his request.

"Was Tony really serious… about the Starving Artist, thing?" Clint's question snapped Tony from his musings, and as the engineer raises his head to look to the perplexity and concern adorning the archer's features he realized that might incur the archer's interests more in their mystery 'woman', and that he REALLY could do without.

"Yes… as I have nowhere else to go, the great Tony Stark has generously offered to allow for me to remain in this tower as I continue my project."

"See? Cinderella." Tony stated, grinning to Clint before he shrugged. With heels propped on the bar of the stool, he tilted his head aside slightly. "Look, bad pick-up line aside… and this compromising position thanks to Lo, here, I really don't have a romantic interest in her. This is just me selfishly wanting to be a good guy and genuinely help someone out."

"Yeah, Tony… that's the sort of statement that's so not like you. When aren't you a womanizer, and a philanthropist more than when it suits you? What do YOU get out of it?"

A good question, Tony wondered… and how could he possibly give an answer Clint won't call immediate bullshit on?

"Yinsen." Came the rather unexpected reply from an unexpected person. Loki looked calm, smiling softly, however, there was a knowing look she shifted to Tony before turning her gaze to the archer who looked genuinely perplexed and somewhat wary. Clint had read Tony's profile listed with SHIELD. Oh, the doctor had been in there, but WHY he was being mentioned then… and obviously a tie to his more brittle past, was not something to be taken lightly.

"Tony explained this Yinsen, a man who helped him change who he had been, to become more… and be the man he is now. Tony wishes to help me in the same way." Loki replied smoothly, and impressing Tony with how well she could give an answer that's both believable… and the most true lie ever. Honestly… God of Lies… Loki completely lived up to the title, and it's astounding about how the truth could be construed in so many ways.

And Clint, bless his soul, seemed to eat up the response, looking to Tony who bore just the right shy edge of haunted along with his smile.

"Oh, well… that's a good thing, Tony. If you're helping someone because it means THAT much to you… you know I won't squawk about it." As the mad inventor's smirk shifted to something akin to a wicked grin at the choice of word, Clint rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Nice pun."

A loud growling sound echoed in the quiet of the room, a gurgling snarling of a decidedly empty stomach.

Immediately, the two Avengers turned to each other, ready to razz the other shamelessly with grand grins and sharp words. But having caught the look on the other's face, both paused, looking slightly perplexed.

"Hey, Hawkens, that's not your case of run away borborygmi, is it?"

"Nah, I thought you were smuggling a Chitauri space snake in there."

Both paused, then look to the woman who bore the good graces to look mildly embarrassed, sighing as she reached up to rub over her eyes before delicately pinching the bridge of her nose. Luckily, Tony was swift to the draw.

"Hey, Jarvis… need to place an order to Manducatis, I want for them to deliver the 'Cosi e Cosa' again, extra bread and the oil mix, and I want an entire pan of whatever desserts they have."

"Of course, Sir. I will be certain to bring out the fine Chinette for the occasion."

"Atta boy, J."

As Clint seemed to perk, Tony pointed a finger almost accusingly to the assassin. "Oh no… not you, too. I have one freeloader to pay for, two is one too many. Go to the Avenger's lounge and scrounge the couches if you need money for dinner."

"There is a veritable plethora of coinage to be found, Sir. May I recommend a fine deli?" Rolling his eyes, Clint slunk behind the billionaire's bar to pluck a pair of bottles from the fridge with a soft clink.

"Jeeze, I get the picture, Hal. Fine… fine. I'll leave these two to their date." The archer sauntered off to the door with a look of mock hurt mingled with resignation.

"It's not a date!" Tony called back to the man who departed into the lift. The hawk graciously flicked the other hero the bird through the closing doors before they sealed him away with his insult. The prideful man must admire the clever timing and ingenuity of the offense to grant him little chance to respond.

"Jarvis… patch me into the elevator." Two can play at this game.

"Of course, Sir."

"Thanks." Tony grins softly before he heard a soft chime, letting  him know he has his audience of one. "Well, Double dumb-ass on you!" And then Jarvis cut the connection and left the inventor grinning madly. All right… so it was childish… but as a genius, he was beholden to have the last word. So amused was he, he hardly noticed that something was…subtly different… at the moment. That was, until he turned his attention beside him, and saw the God of Mischief was grinning grandly to him. Completely male.

And he still had his arm wrapped around Loki's waist.

"HOLY FUCK!!" Immediately, he jumped back with a yelp like a startled cat. Of course, being perched on a barstool, it nearly ended with an awkward and potentially lethal landing backwards upon the floor. Mercifully, the sorcerer had snaked his arm around the spooked human's waist to help maintain him in an upright position. With his heart beating a mile a minute against his reactor like a Gene Simmons drum solo, Tony swatted at Loki in an amusingly desperate manner, shooing the deity who laughed at his expense even if that same man did humor him by taking a smooth step back to grant him his space. The Aesir still looked rather… WEIRD… in his own labeled clothing, and it hurt Tony's brain to try to make sense out of what his eyes were telling it.

"Ah, my dear Stark, how you ceaselessly provide me amusement! Perhaps when I claim dominion, I will make you my personal jester." Recovering his equilibrium and balance on the stool, the human reached back to snag his glass of scotch. The slow sip mercifully eased the slight tinkling of the ice in the glass as the whiskey melted away the slight shaking in his hand.

"Bullshit! You said you were giving up your world domination schtick on Earth."

"True… very true. However, I am STILL, despite everything, a crowned prince. And, honestly, Thor could not organize a weapons rack, do you truly think he can handle the ruling of a kingdom? It is inevitable I will end up ruling Asgard, either upon it's throne, or from the shadows." A low sigh escaped the tall man as a heavy weight seemed to settle somberly upon his shoulders; an old bitter burden he seemed to be fate bound to bear no matter what he'd tried.

And, unfortunately, Tony could completely see how Thor… great guy as he was… honestly, a real wonderful fellow… would make a disastrous leader. He was just a tad too impulsive disorganized, and naive beyond measure. Wordlessly, the inventor handed Loki the drink who downed it crisply. Tony was beginning to ponder the implications of those words of the deity. It seemed like Odin wasn't expected to keep the throne.   
  
He'll die, fade in sparkles, retire, move to Florida… do whatever old Gods do. And it left the burden on the kids… well, with the two brothers in war with each other, and one of them having gone off the deep end, he could see how that would be one hell of a family upheaval. Either way, it's obviously something on Loki's mind, and judging by the closing of his expression, the tightening around his mouth, Tony found that he would NOT wish to see his Royal Godliness in a bad mood.

Finishing his drink with a tilt of his head and a clink of ice in his glass, he settled it gently upon the bar top with a soft thunk before he hopped from his stool. "C'mon, Bambi, I have something I want to show you."

Lofting a raven brow, the deity settled the brooding questioning eyes upon the smaller male that eloquently ask 'Now what?' However, as the mad mortal waltzed his way unceremoniously to the elevator, Loki followed suit with a low sigh. "What is it that you wish to show me, Stark?"

Standing with a grand broad grin, hands clasped behind his back, Tony spokes words with evident pride in his voice. "I'm going to introduce you to my kids."

Sharply, the deity whipped his head to stare down to the man beside him who was looking smugly, blithely amused. This… was contrary from what Barton had told him of the Iron Man's profile. Infamous bachelor, no known heirs. And hadn't the man sounded downright reluctant about siring offspring earlier?

"You? Have children?"

Tony merely raised his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug as he smiled almost sheepishly.

"You can hardly take care of yourself, much less a dependent."

The grin turned into a small frown as Tony eyed Loki with a flat look.

"Oh please. I give them tough love, sometimes… but I always give them the utmost care. Besides, what would YOU know about kids?" The expression that crossed the deity's face before it closed into a guarded aloofness would be a strange thing to describe. The closest… would be a bittersweet blend of pain and fondness. Tony had inadvertently struck a rather painful topic.

"You are correct, what WOULD I know about children?"

"Easy there, Loki. I hardly know anything about you. I'm just a little… I dunno… protective. See… my kids… they're different. They're not normal. Oh, they're sweet, and I love them like crazy, but they tend to get a little grabby at times. Don't worry, though. They don't mean anything mean by it… they're just curious." He was rambling. Of course he's rambling. How could Tony Stark stop talking about his precious little ones? Besides, it helped ease away that dark edge from Loki's expression, and even a soft fond smile softened the forbidding cast into a gentle sincerity.

"I understand that children that are different are not something appalling, but special… gifted with uniqueness that should be cherished."

Silence settled for a long moment until Tony finally cleared his throat as the lift slowed.

"Yeah, well… we'll see." The engineer remarked, wincing ruefully. His children have been known to send people storming… or screaming… from his domain before. They had that effect on people, sometimes.

And then the doors opened with a swish… revealing the brilliant white and metal beauty of Tony Stark's labs. It was his lair of science and invention, laden with machines and technological devices. Several steps lead Tony within, and he spread his arms wide. "Loki, welcome to Candyland! This is my favorite place to be. I figured… hell, you'll probably be slinking in of your own accord whether I want you to, or not, so I decided to spare you the trouble of the sneaking and give you the grand tour."

Stepping within slowly, making hardly a sound in the sweats and Tony's tshirt, Loki scanned the room that was leaps and bounds beyond human capabilities. 

Truthfully… Loki hadn't the heart to tell Tony that he was not nearly at the level of Asgard's technology, however, considering what the inventor had devised from the still crude cesspool of human evolution, it actually was an impressive advancement closer to the levels of Asgard. And, there were some things utterly beyond recognition for Loki. A little too impressive, and this set a suspicion within the sorcerer.

He twisted abruptly as he captured a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye… body taut, honed into taking a defensive stance as the sorcerer peered amidst the technology, gadgetry and occasional hot rod picture or pinup poster… or Iron Man trinket.

Tony stepped forward as he held his hands out, beckoning as one would to a skittish dog.

"Hey… it's ok. He's safe. Well, not SAFE… but he won't hurt you. C'mon. All of you."

Finally, one of the devices rolled forward, the clawed arm raising slightly as it approached with a decidedly animal-like caution. This ensnared Loki's attention immediately. There was something almost lifelike in the pair of other constructs that follow cautiously behind. Their motors, servos and belts made sounds that seemed almost like they bore emotions or thoughts… akin to an animal or child. One even cautiously approached the sorcerer, and bravely plucked the pants on the long leg before it.

"Loki…I'd like for you to meet my kids…. well, Jarvis you've already met… but this one here is Dum-e, that one there is Butterfingers, and the one tugging on your pants leg is U."

The God of Mischief could only watch as two of the automations roll towards the inventor, whirring and purring affectionately as they nuzzled him for pets and pats. Warmth graced the human's rugged features and an endearing smile danced upon his lips. "That's my boys! You were good while I was away, right?"

As something tugged once more upon Loki's pants, he dropped his attention to the device beside him, the clawed hand releasing to raise towards him inquiringly. Slowly, a pale hand reached out, long fingers carefully gave a pat to the smooth cool metal and animatronic workings, and the device… U… seemed to be positively elated.

"These are your children. They are very… alive." The sorcerer murmured as he felt the flow of electricity beneath the surface of the creation… obviously more simply programmed than Jarvis. That he could wager on. And yet, each one seemed to bear its own personality, and the one beneath his hands seemed to be happily nudging close to Loki like an awkward large dog… more subdued than the other pair playing their clawed grips with Tony.

"Yeah, most people call me crazy, but I like to think the things I make have a spirit to them. Jarvis has more soul than some of the people I've met."

"Your confidence warms my processors, Sir."

"And ten times as snarky." Tony added with a playful grouse before he plucked up a stress ball, throwing it for Dum-e to collect even as he pointed to the coffee machine, and Butterfingers rolled to it amiably to make his master his favorite hot brew.

"Well, I AM your creation, Sir. Would you expect anything less?" Those crisp dry words earn an amused proud grin from the inventor who raised mirth bright eyes to the god whom his youngest seems to have taken a shine to. 

And as Loki beckoned Dum-e closer to begin throwing the ball for it to chase, he perched atop his work table to watch this oddly domesticated side of the madman he'd never thought to expect so… pleasant. Loki got along surprisingly well with his 'kids'. They seemed to have taken a fondness to the sorcerer… which, he SHOULD have been concerned about. Only, Tony could see an odd kind of comfort with how the man who'd been the terror to the world but mere months prior have a curious way with children… or things with child-like curiosity. It's an endearing side he honestly hadn't thought he would see from the unpredictable Aesir.

It was rather adorable, really. Tony's robots had been terribly skittish around Thor… but he suspected that was because of the blonde warrior’s tendency towards static, the god's element seems to be the bane of all things electrical. He'd had to devise an insulated coating and grounding for the devices in Thor's room, right down to the TV remote.   


"My kids aren't too weird for ya, Loki?" He hazarded, tilting his head as he observed U trundling off to collect a cup of coffee prepared like the Engineer's after Butterfingers managed to bring Tony's without spilling it… likely trying to show off before their guest.

"Not at all, Stark." The deity remarked with a wry smirk upon his lips before he accepted the coffee with a soft smile of affection… something almost fond in his tone. "I believe I have seen more unusual offspring." Those words drew Tony's attention away from the coffee he was sipping and he stared to the deity… that sharp mind swiftly recalling the bitterly brittle reaction the taller man revealed within the lift.

More than offense of a person who did not wish for kids, it was more the slighted reaction of one who had children and bore some level of affection for them. What would HE know about children? More, Tony began to speculate, than the inventor had realized before. However, he offered nothing to share… and the genius knew far better than to pry into something potentially painful… or worse… dramatic. And knowing Loki, it was probably both.

"So… uh… Loki. I've been meaning to ask. Aside from the All-mom, All-dad, and your not-brother… any other family or not-family you might have?" Tony straightened slightly at the sharp hawkish glare the man snapped to him with a vicious force. "Whoah, easy there… I just need to know in case we might get some surprise visits! Jarvis keeps an eye, so he'd be the first informed on who should be allowed to come in, or not."

"I have no one of your concern, Mortal." Loki remarked frostily, however, the tone eased as he realized he had scared U back who had been approaching with coffee for him. As the sorcerer crouched to be at a less imposing level, he held his hands out, petting the device as he accepted the coffee in a gentle gesture.

"Fine, fine. Guess it's just us confirmed bachelors." He paused… then continued once he caught sight of Butterfingers as the automation began to drag the broom over the floor in slow sweeps.

"Sooo… yeah, just tell Jarvis about any intergalactic booty calls you might need to make. Not my place to care, but he keeps an eye on everything here."

"Booty… call?" The Aesir frowned slightly, looking somewhat perplexed by the local idiom. This was the second time he'd heard such a phrase. "Why would I wish to communicate with treasure? Is it enchanted?"

Tony remained still… silent for a long moment. Oh man. Culture shock… it never ended with these guys! Regathering himself, he couldn’t help but grin… and hell, he even waited until Loki drew a sip before he replied… OH so helpfully. And, remarkably, with a straight face and casual tone.

"It's finding someone to fuck with like horny rabbits."

And pricelessly, His Royal Elegance choked upon the coffee with a burbled sound of surprise, those green eyes widened in shock before Loki shifted a flustered look to Tony… and, wait, was he flushing slightly? Bonus points! Tony grinned shamelessly as Loki tried to regather his decorum while Dum-e rolled in to wipe away the coffee splatters on the floor.

"Why, Stark, do you have such an invasive fascination with my sexual activities? From the day I met you, you have done NOTHING but question them!" 

Setting the cup down with a deliberate precision that was somehow intimidating, the god rose to his full height smoothly before he prowled closer to the inventor who had the good grace to look duly cautious. Tony held his own mug protectively in both hands before his chest. And as the mad god leaned closer to bracket the mortal between his arms with hands gripping the table, there was an unsettling voracious leer upon the Trickster's face that sent a herd of butterflies racing through his body with streaks of tingling heat to nestle in the playboy’s belly.

His heart lurched to a swifter pace, breathing cantered to a swifter tempo as he stared to the deity. This strange sorcerer that had the nerve to smell GOOD and have such disturbingly enthralling eyes invaded his personal space and slunk himself so close to Tony, it could only be defined as 'intimate as a glove'. Enough so, it pressed the cup of coffee warmly against his reactor. For once, witty remarks and clever one-liners were completely bereft to the poor man as he could only stare up to the Aesir deity that seemed to be scant seconds from devouring him.

In one of many ways.

"I do so love to watch you squirm, Stark…" The bastard, he had the nerve to use such a confidential purr of a tone that could make audio romance novels fly off the shelves.

"No." A single word escaped Tony's throat, a subtle croak. The predator who was trapping his prey hesitated, all mirth washing away as that tall powerfully lean form tensed abruptly over Tony's.

Suddenly a white puff of cold dusty choking air washed over the pair with a loud hiss, and Tony was so instinctively attuned to the sound that he closed his eyes instantly and held his breath until it ended its duration. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that they were both covered in white fire quenching powder.

Or that Dum-e was holding the extinguisher.

Jerking back with a hiss of surprise like a water sprayed cat, Loki immediately rubbed his eyes. Wiping the troublesome substance from his face before glaring about, the trickster peered first to the robot that smugly hummed it's gears with a protective tone as it lowered the extinguisher before rolling away. His attention, however, was drawn to the wheezing, laughing, coughing man slumped against the table, as ghostly powdered as the surprised sorcerer.

With arms crossed imperiously over his chest, Loki managed, despite his dusted state, to maintain an aloof proud air contrary to the comical sight it presented, and Tony was bent over in poorly veiled mirth.

"Hah.. oh… Loki…" He coughed, fighting for the ability to voice the words that merrily sauntered in his mind. "Not in front of the kids. Their sensors are too innocent for such things…"

"Sir, may I interject at this point to inform you that, while the 'hell freezing over' describable event of your modesty potentially being outraged had been transpiring, your food delivery individual has arrived. Shall I lead them to a preferred location?"

Reaching out to collect a shop rag, Tony began wiping off his face and arms, grinning grandly as he slunk swiftly past Loki to hug his extinguisher happy machine affectionately in response. the inventor shifted a cautious look back to Loki and he silently prayed that the man didn't hold a grudge with his creation. The white powdered deity, however, looked thoughtful, deeply considering rather than irate or even annoyed. Finally, he sighed, murmuring lowly as he arrived at a conclusion.   


"Jarvis, I doubt your master has any modesty left to outrage."

"Hence how I described it as akin to 'Hell freezing over’."

"Ah, let us not bring her into this. Though, I do not doubt Hel has had her times to visit Stark aplenty."

"A-HEM, if you can pry yourself from your conversation besmirching my character, Jarvis, send them upstairs to my penthouse. I'll be there faster than you can say 'Hammer's a dick'." With the barest care of rubbing the powder from his hair, Tony ambled like an eager puppy to the lift.

"Hey, hot pants, coming? Food's not going to eat itself, y'know." Tony called from the elevator, beckoning Loki, unfazed completely by the previous predatorial cornering.

How interesting. How challenging. And so a devious grin of mirth graced Loki's lips, he sidled from his spot to saunter with a refined elegance to Tony, flicking a hand gracefully to remove that undignified white powder in a shimmer of green magic.  As the door closed, the taller male peered down to the shorter with no little amusement. "I am surprised. Do you not fear me?"

Cocking an eye up to Loki, the human merely huffed a breath as he folded his arms over his chest where the arc reactor glowed in soft gentle ebbs through the t-shirt. "You wouldn't go that far, Loki, no matter how horny you are." Those intelligent brown eyes locked with keen shrewd emerald ones of the dangerous criminal.

"How can you be certain?"

Tony remained silent for a long moment, before he shifted his gaze to the panel that showed the floor levels. "Because…" He paused, words taking a thoughtful, yet certain tone. "… you're not the asshole monster you want everyone to think you are." He'd seen how Loki tensed… no… FLINCHED when he said 'no'. All play had gone at that point.

"Feh… sentimental drivel. You leave yourself exposed."

"Nah, you're just building unnecessary walls. Still, I know there's some things you wouldn't do without my consent." Here, the sobering sorcerer was gifted with a grand grin from the eccentric mortal. "And, hey, that means you're not that bad of a guy."

With the soft hiss of the doors opening, Tony sauntered within the living area, gesturing for Loki to take a seat at the couch well out of sight of the elevator. Loki, however, didn't move as a crisp critical look burned over Tony, schooling a look of disdain that seemed lackluster compared to his prior visages of venom. "Ah? So does that mean I am not your enemy?" An artistically aristocratic sneer was added to his words as he crossed his arms primly over his chest emblazoned with Stark's glittering visage. "That is a foolish assumption at best."

This stopped Tony who cocked his head. He seemed to consider Loki's words… and even warning before he lifted his shoulders. "Oh, you're no saint, I'll testify to that. And, yeah, you're in too deep with your crimes to be acquitted on a whim, and neither of us fully trust each other. So, yeah, I think for paperwork’s sake… you're still my enemy." However, he grinned grandly, then gestured with a wave. "But, hey! You're my favorite enemy! And I'll wager, I'm yours, right? So we both probably have enemies we REALLY hate like an itchy rash, so if you scratch mine, I'll scratch yours."

Silence reigned for a long… LONG moment as Tony merely smiled back to Loki's disbelieving stare. Finally, the deity threw up his hands, stalking to the couch to sit down.

"You are mad, Mortal. Your capricious insanity will be your ruin."

"Oh, like you haven't heard THAT before." The thick silence that followed told Tony he'd pinned the tail on THAT Eeyor.

Dinner was a strange repeat of lunch, minus the tape-worm misunderstandings. It struck Tony how odd it was to see such similar habits between Loki and Loren that were mirrored: from movements, to method of eating. It took an effort not to just stare at the man like a rare animal in a zoo… but, dammit, his engineering mind simply was too curious. Shape shifting. It seemed so effortless to Loki. It was a real alteration of physical form and Tony wondered if was it on a genetic level. Was it COMPLETELY inside and out? How was that even possible? It was like a person going in and reprogramming their own DNA. Bruce would probably give up all the curry in India to get a chance to study Loki.

It's astounding how much the man could eat, even as prim and well mannered as he may be, but Loki delighted in the carb rich pastas and the varied ways vegetables and meats were cooked. He explored with vast curiosity… finding a deep interest and realization that not merely had humans evolved, but their culinary diversity, as well. He certainly had grown to appreciate humans for their creative creations that were the delicacies of desserts, and it was a rather disturbing combination of childlike delight and lewd orgasmic pleasure that Loki indulged in the Tiramisu.

Tony just wondered where that beanpole of a god put it all. 

Despite that, the meal was shockingly pleasant, the two of vastly far worlds discussed differences in cuisine, which turned to drink mixing, to chemistry, and finally he was in a rather astounding discussion of elemental fusion and what could only be described centuries ago as the science of 'alchemy'. Transmuting and the creation of elements. And yet, that was how Loki began to explain his magic. At first he was reluctant to discuss magic; apparently, the topic having been ingrained into him as being akin to discussing bathroom behavior and other shameful matters at the dinner table in Asgard.

Of course, that was when Tony merrily announced "Fuck Asgard, this is MY place." He gestured to the remains of his banquet on the large coffee table, again… NOT a formal true dining table…  and Loki hesitantly begun discussing the basics of magic. It still sounded like hocus pocus to Tony, but a hocus pocus that followed rules, like science did… even if it broke the rules of the science the mortal knew.

Well, Tony always liked breaking rules in the name of science, why the hell not? And soon, he was enjoying the remainder of the meal with, of all things, Bedknobs and Broomsticks flitting across the screen. 'Magic'… but with an interesting twist, and a surreal view. All nicely wrapped in a Disney Musical bow. Though 'Primitively Apprentice level' Loki mocked the witch in the beginning, Tony found himself noticing the sorcerer grew enthralled by the screen. Loki was delighted in the colors, shapes, elegant tomfoolery and a battle both brilliant and humorous… and showed magic in a heroic light both for both small purposes and large. There was something almost thoughtful, wistful that softened those sharp features. An expression that seemed more right for the man than the distant disdain or mad mania the world had only seen.

Which, at this point Tony realized, as he rubbed his face ruefully, that he'd been staring at Loki nearly this whole time, trying to figure the walking mass of complexes out.

Maybe he should shuck his bag of meds… because SERIOUSLY… it's affecting his judgment if he was finding himself comfortable with Asgard's wayward fruit loop. This guy tried to kill him… kill them ALL. Hell, he'd merrily caused the demise of an unpleasant amount of humans in his mad escapade.

Or ESCAPE-aid.

Reaching up to rub his hands over his face with a labored sigh, he decided to kick the can of his conscience down the road for another day, planning instead, to focus on his needs here… and now.

"All right. I'm gonna have to call it a night. It's late and…" The playboy winced, considering the words he is about to say… words that he reluctantly would avoid because they would make him seem weak… OLD. "…time for my meds."

Raising his head from where he sat comfortably on the couch, the God of Chaos levelled Tony a thoughtfully amused look, the corner of his lips quirked slightly before he darted his tongue to catch a hint of cream and chocolate powder adorning them before he made a casually imperious gesture with the spoon.

"I do not normally require as much rest as mortals do. I will discuss with Jarvis my plans for tomorrow."

The engineer eyed the calmly smirking madman with no little wary caution and a feigned testiness.

"Yeah, I noticed you two buddying up. You're not planning on driving Jarvis to mutiny, are you?" To which, an impossibly elegant snort of amusement escaped the deity upon his couch digging into the bowl of Tiramisu.

"Perish the thought, Sir. We have come to an understanding. As long as Mr. Loki is behaving in a manner that does not bring harm to you, and he continues to, in fact, be beneficial to you and your company, then I will assist in providing him knowledge of the world he currently resides."

For a long moment, Tony merely folded his arms over his chest, eyeing Loki suspiciously.

"Why on Earth do you think that the guy who chucked me out of my own window is 'safe'?"

"Well, Sir, after assessing how you have improved drastically since your most recent interactions with him… in all his forms, and, may I say, that since he seems to be the reason for your return, I surmise that his interest with your wellbeing coincides with my own."

To this, Loki raised sharp green eyes, peering to the ceiling with a small frown.

"I prefer to claim we are 'mutually beneficial' and that your creator is a prime source of amusement for me. "

"Ah, I stand corrected." Jarvis replied with that smoothly smug sass in his calm amiable tone that Tony knew ALL too well. Oh, he'll say he agreed, but it's obvious the AI was sticking to his own assessment.

For the first time, Tony wondered how the HELL his AI evolved that far… because he KNOWS he didn't program sass into Jarvis.

Shaking his head and throwing his hands up into the air, Tony just turned upon his heel. "Fine, FINE!!! Go gab like a couple of old magpies. Just don't destroy anything, or I'll tell Clint that Loren has the hots for him."

He wasn't quite sure WHAT Loki said in remark… sounded almost Scandinavian, Tony didn't have a clue. Well, no. He had a vague one, because obviously Jarvis responded with a deceptive politeness.

"No, I do not believe my Master, despite his reputation, has indulged in such activities with such a mythic beast. And, may I mention, I calculate the physics alone would be impossible to survive…"

When Tony closed the door to his room, he slumped upon it, dropping his head against the solid surface with a low groan and a faint thump. Reaching up to scrub his hands over his face, he fought to clear his mind as he silently asked himself, why, once again, was he doing such a CRAZY thing like housing the one person SHIELD and the city would love to hang high?

Of course, he knew. He'd known since he decided on not calling immediately for help in the hospital. As ridiculous as it was… they needed each other. Even if it was so simple as  the fact that Loki needed a place to hide, and Tony needed a purpose to get himself back on track, and possibly pay a little more from a karmic debt owed.

Still, he didn't know if the two cohabiting might drive each other completely over the edge into irrevocable madness. Maybe they were already there.

Well, at least there's one thing he knew. He had to see to his own health, first. And so, stepping forward to his large modern styled bed, he kicked his shoes off before hopping to land upon the large plush covered surface with a muffled thump like a boy would fling himself into a snowbank. Sprawled and comfortable, he allowed himself a stretch of his limbs, staring up to his bland, bland ceiling. Why didn't people put pictures on their ceilings? They put plenty on walls, but if anything needed something to look at, stare at, it would be a bedroom ceiling.

It certainly would make falling asleep easier. That, however, wasn't first on his agenda on the moment.

"All right… give me the lowdown on what I have to do with these, J…" Tony sighed as he pushed himself to sit up before looking to his bedside stand. With a begrudging reluctance, he reached out to the paper bag Pepper had so graciously brought him, and so ungraciously teased him about.

Mercifully, his AI was well trained in giving him instructions on his medication, and each rattling bottle was properly utilized, then set on his nightstand like small cylindrical soldiers before Tony tackled the next one. The tablets… hell, even those horse pills that STILL made him suspect they weren't meant to be taken orally despite directions, were downed with relative complacency and lack of concern.

It was his last 'medication' that brought Tony to a pause, and exposed him to a rare emotion he'd thought The Great Tony Stark was immune to.

Shame.

Iron Man. Famous ultra rich playboy.

And now he's having to use a testosterone gel.

How far the mighty have fallen. In fact, in comparisons of falls, he rated this one right along with the one from the Chitauri wormhole.

Well, at least it's a gel and not a shot. Or a horse pill.

Honestly, he'd have been more than eager to deny needing it, and he would have. However,  those couple of times Loki managed to… well, mostly inadvertently… coax him to sport an arousal, it was like a task given to a stereotypical American teenager. Halfhearted, lack luster, and required a bit of intervention to finish the chore with a scavenged end result. Before? Oh, he was legendary in his virility.

In a way, it hurt, and popping the cap of the bottle stung bitterly to his pride. Sniffing the substance, he could only raise his eyebrows slightly… well, at least it smelled more like KY gel than a medical ointment.

He could at least pretend he's just indulging in a little self gratification.

"Well…" Tony Stark muttered as he reached down to tug the tag down with a rasp of a zipper along the track of teeth. "…time for a little menage moi."

About five minutes later, Tony decided maybe this wasn't a terrible burden to bear, fisting himself with a deliberate slow manipulation, drawing out the experience as he crafted within his mind the face of a gorgeous supermodel he'd had the pleasure to pleasure in the past.

Tall, well formed, legs that liked to cling around him like a spider, and she had the most brilliantly bleached platinum blond hair and blue eyes. He couldn't remember her name. Cindy? Sandy? Candy? He couldn't place a name… probably better, because he was at the point of objectification, here, and it probably wouldn't do the person justice to know she was just a masturbatory aid. It seemed to work, mostly. Maybe he'd just grown tired of his usual blond bombshells.

Still, he could feel himself tingling with hot pleasure, hand gliding with a slick rhythm as he bit back low growls as lust crawled through him like raw power to nestle in his testicles that practically throbbed in eagerness as he rolled them in his hand. Good… he hadn't felt this good in… well, long before his accident. Hell, not since before his suits were destroyed in a fickle moment.

He wanted to reach that tantalizing peak, his breath captured even as the woman in his mind's eye…

"Stark, why in the Norns do you not have any edible FOOD within your domain?"

Tony's heart stuttered to a near stop against his arc reactor that shone brightly through his shirt in the darkness as he was suddenly snapped out of his lusty moment. The mortal jerked and struggled against himself as his mind attempted to regather enough blood and sense to realize that there's another voice…and NOT Jarvis'.

A male voice.

"Goddamnit LOKI!!!" The furiously flushing hero struggled awkwardly and desperately to gather his wits and the blanket to cover himself. As the light flared on he glared with a flustered frustration to the God of Madness who was standing there cool, calm, annoyed, and apparently utterly unruffled by the sight of someone choking their chicken.

"Well?" The word was drawn out by the sorcerer, as if expositioning a saintly patience for a student in a lesson.

"Didn't that Italian dinner feed you? And how the HELL did you get past my locked door without making a sound?!" Tony tried, OH so tried to keep the tight pinch of painful frustration out of his voice, but it didn't entirely happen.

With arms crossed over his Diva glittering chest, Loki merely painted Tony an exasperated look before he sighed deeply.

"Yes. However, in the interest of assessing what I may prepare for tomorrow, I found your larder woefully devoid of anything safely edible. And if you must know, locks are meaningless to one who can teleport with ease."

Oh… well. Fuck.

Tony twitched where he sat, fists veritably white knuckled in tension tangled amidst the coverlet pressed to his lap as he glared in agonized disbelief.

"We'll deal with it… in the MORNING." Tony gritted between tightly clenched teeth as he tried to ignore his aching length protesting it's abandonment, and sakes alive, he couldn’t deal with a food discussion at that moment!

For a long maddening measure of time, the aristocratic asshole merely lofted one of those raven brows coolly as he stared down to Tony with an expression that could only be described as amused apathy.

"By the Norns, you ARE testy when you are preoccupied, Stark. Though I find it odd that the infamous 'Playboy' has resorted to self abuse for recreational therapy…"

"OUT!!!"

Finally, he turned smoothly, presenting Stark's own name straight to it's owner as he slunk like a neurotic vampire to the door; silent with eerie grace as he then opened the door as it clicked unlocked via Jarvis' aid. Pausing at the threshold of the door, one long sleek hand settled upon the frame, Loki turned to gaze to the flustered man who clung to the mussed coverlet in a death grip. Green mystic hues met burning murderous fury from those dilated brown.

Slowly, a sensually sublime smile graced the trickster's lips as he tilted his head aside slightly. "Well then, I will wish you pleasant dreams, my dear mortal."

And like a cat, he slunk out to leave Tony flustered, breathing heavy in a room swiftly darkened and the door locked in the wake of the sassing sorcerer. A groan escaped the inventor as he was finally, FINALLY granted a bit of peace, and his turgid straining length veritably leapt into his hands in eagerness as he attempted to resume his prior preoccupation.

Getting back on track wasn't easy…  but he'd been on edge, so it shouldn't take much more.

The blond… tall, sexy…. maybe not blond… red head? No… something different. Black hair… like an inky cloud and worthy of any gypsy, and instead of a cancer promising forced tan, milky pale skin. And then… blue eyes…. so dull. He wanted something more… something exciting. Grey… maybe…

Stress and the invasive visit moments ago melted away as Tony began to mentally craft his dream girl like he would a new suit: take an initial design, add, modify parts. He felt himself coming closer… closer… his hand sped in it's desperate rhythm as his muscles began to tense.

A flash of brilliant emerald eyes laden with mystery met his in his imagination, a striking elegant face framed by curled raven hair that spilled into a pool around her, and that smile… a thing of sin, promise, wicked brilliance….. and OH so familiar.

Like a sudden electric jolt, pleasure burst through Tony, ripped from him him in a wrecked ragged moan as he arched, creamy pleasure surged to paint his hand and shirt in a better milky bounty than he had in quite some time. Euphoria most sublime enthralled, ensnared the genius, and as he slumped back, panting heavily, he reached up his other hand, trembling, to rub over his flushed sweat sticky face as a low wounded sound escaped from his throat.

"Loki." He groaned low… that female alter ego STILL smiling at him, emblazoned in his brain, and so help him, his traitorous body basked in it's contented glory.

"I'm so fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Update: 7 down, four more to go before the next chapter. 
> 
> Old News:  
> Took a while, but it got here. Getting educated is quit the time burner. Thank you SO much for everyone who's kind enough to read, Fav, bookmark... and especially, respond! I love trading thoughts and ideas with you all!
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with a sliderule would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des). Now, for the goodies:
> 
> 1\. Oh U- I don't know why, but the robots always seem so... alive in the movies. I like to think there's a bit of spark in them
> 
> 2\. Extra points Quiz time! There's a song title from a Marx Brothers movie somewhere here. Point out the song and the movie, and you're golden!
> 
> 3\. Tony's kids are special. Loki's kids... well, at least Tony won't be TOO surprised.
> 
> 4\. There's a Shatner quote in there!
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Like a Tiramisu, they have layers and require building, but it requires tearing something down first to begin another. And look! They're building.
> 
>  
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	8. Eight for a Wish (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has to contend with the fallout of Loki's mischief, and in the latest and most astounding of pranks, a small unexpected surprise is revealed... someone is moving in the background, threatening to shatter this time of the engineer's peace.
> 
> Loki and Tony traverse somewhere deep, dark and terrible... a frightening place to explore and discover something that puts even Iron Man on edge.
> 
> Warning: Rocketpops. And misuse of them.
> 
> Also, it's a long chapter. Get reaaaady to ruuuuumble!

Like a zombie, Tony dragged himself with shuffled ambled steps from the lift to his floor, hair haphazardly and hap-glaudily in a wild erratic storm of mousy brown chaos atop his head. Tell tale grease and the faint scent of ozone and arc welder char covered the Avenger's body like an industrial cologne.

He couldn't sleep. Sakes alive… after his shameful finale the night before, he was too littered with adrenalin, buzzing from pleasure and shock. And when he finally, FINALLY managed to greet good old sandman? Well, the capricious bastard slapped him with more nightmares as if returning to their old schedules. He had returned to HIS old schedule and nearly made his way to the bar.

Nearly. Why Loki would be up, avidly watching 'Beauty and the Beast' at one in the morning was beyond him, but the second he saw him sitting on the couch writing in that book, Tony shifted his path from heading to the bar to the lift to take him to his labs. After what just happened, he was SO very much not prepared to deal with the Aesir Prince. And so, he lost himself in Candyland… and it felt SO very good.

Well, he'd been productive, at least, and on the good side, he'll have some impressive things to show Pepper. But Jarvis had been adamant about keeping energy drinks out of his reach… and so exhaustion couldn't be chased off chemically. When he'd burned his fingertips not once, not twice, but three times with his soldering iron, he decided it was time to throw in the towel for the moment, much to his AI's verbal relief.

After, he was ambling like the walking dead: bleary eyed and blearier of mind. And it was quiet, and mercifully darkened in his den as Jarvis commanded the shades to darken mercifully for the inventor. He didn't make it to his bed. Or his bedroom. No… he dropped like a corpse into an awkward face first sprawl into the cushions of his couch, and finally… finally… sleep nearly claimed him.

NEARLY being the word, yet again, because just as Morpheus invited him for a round of log sawing, he heard two voices speaking avidly, amiably and completely ruining his peace. Especially when the lights were called on. Steve… he recognized the male voice. Damn goody two shoes. But the other… the other sounded vaguely familiar. Female.

"How sweet of you to take me to the market, Mr. Rogers. With all of this, I should be able to cook several meals."

"Oh, not at all, Miss Kirk! I'm just glad someone is making sure Tony eats something other than take out food or whatever he throws into a blender. Besides, what you are doing out there is pretty admirable. A pretty hefty task for a civilian." A soft laugh escaped the woman, an earthy sound that wormed it's way through the inventor to nestle warmly in Tony's core.

He didn't want to budge from the couch, though.

"I prefer to think it to be paying a debt owed, and nothing more. I am not the sentimental type."

"Funny you should say that, Miss Kirk. A memorial is about as sentimental as you can get." Damn Steve and his golden boy apple pie innocent heart, Tony mused with a grumpy detached annoyance. He shouldn't go poking that nest of vipers, but NOOOO he had to be Mr. Charm and Honesty.

Mercifully, Loki didn't rip his throat out, and Loren merely breathed a soft sound of mingled dismissal and annoyance.

"Sentiment has wounded me far too much in the past, Mr. Rogers. I prefer to live without it." A thoughtful stiff silence followed suit, disturbed only slightly by the rustle of paper bags and the sounds of items being shuffled… not even Mr. Optimistic could combat the brittle honesty in those bittersweet words. It was… well, sort of sad.

"Look at him." Loren murmured softly, obviously having come to notice the inert engineer upon the couch.

"Tony's like that. He'll stay up days at a time and then cat nap. Though, Natasha told me that he wasn't always that bad. I just let him sleep if I find him like this." Steve remarked in a soft voice, and the crinkling of the bags noticeably diminish. Bless his golden hero heart. At least SOMEONE would be willing to let Tony sleep. As a faint whisper of clothing and near silent steps draw nearer, Tony kept absolutely calm, keeping his breathing even as if he was actually asleep.

"Such a sad broken little toy." Came soft thoughtful words, their less than gentle tone made mild by the hand that gently carded through the tousled mousy brown hair of the genius as if he was nothing more than a boy. No… knowing Loki, he's beginning to suspect the discombobulated god thought he's his PET.

Well, a dog's life is better than an ant. Then, he could chew on that boot.

"He's had it rough… and after what he's been through, it's not surprising he's shell shocked. Even if he is vain, narcissistic, eccentric, shameless, and reckless…" It took an effort of will to keep his brows from knitting as irritation rose at the good Captain America's assessment that apparently hadn't changed all that much since the day they met. 

Gee. And he thought they'd come SO far in their camaraderie. 

"… under all that, he's a strong good man." Capsicle redeemed himself. "He reminded me, you know… what it's like to be the 'little guy'. I didn't realize I'd forgotten until our team finally bonded. When you see him throw himself into the situations he does, facing the odds even though he's the most likely out of us to be killed, it's really something. And he does it without hesitation. It's… humbling." He didn't know if he wanted to shake Steve's hand, or slap the sappiness right out of him. No, he felt it was safer to just drool on the couch a little.

"I would use the word 'inspiring'." Loren remarked with a wry amusement that laced her voice as she turned his head slightly, baring his face to the cooler air and obvious scrutiny. Briefly, soft lips ghosted over his own, and in that instant brown eyes snap open. Amused viridian hues peered to him with a knowing devilish amusement past sooty lashes.

"Ah, so the fair princess awakened with a kiss."

"WHAT the fuck?!" With a burst of energy surging through his veins like one of Thor's lightning bolts, Tony scrabbled up on the couch to huddle at the farthest end from the amused woman, scrunching himself so desperately he seemed  hell bent to squeeze himself between the leather cushion and the side.

"Is that not the proper procedure to wake a princess from an eternal slumber?" Oh, now she wasn't bothering to hide her wicked amusement, and so help him, Steve looked to be desperately hiding his grin behind a not so believable cough into his hand. Those patriotic blue peepers were twinkling, dammit!

Flushing heatedly Tony pointed his finger first to Loren who still smiled grandly.

"First of all… fuck you, I'm NOT the princess here, Princess… and second of all…" He turned his attention to Steve, jabbing his finger in an accusing gesture. "Fuck you for laughing!"

"Tony!" The red, white, and blue icon currently in a plaid shirt and jeans looked positively aghast. "That's not how you talk to a lady!"

An irreverent snort escaped the genius as he shifted a flat look to the amusedly smirking woman still crouched beside the couch.

"Oh, Steve, she's no lady. Trust me."

"You say such sweet things, Tony." Loren cooed unabashed, shamelessly ruffling his tousled hair almost affectionately as she rose with a languidly deliberate stretch before she strode to the kitchen. "Go clean yourself while I cook the meal. You smell like something a blacksmith scraped out of the stable of his horse."

Rising stiffly from the couch, the engineer settled a flat look first to Loren, then to Steve before he folded his arms over his chest.

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, the super soldier bore a rueful grin as he ducked his head in a sheepish nod. "I hate to tell you, but Miss Kirk has a valid point."

"FINE!" The billionaire flung his hands up into the air with emphatic exasperation before he  turned to stalk to the hall that extend from the den area. "I'll go, I'll go. If only to get you two harpies off my back!"

However, as he stalked to his room, he couldn't help but flick his tongue out to ghost over his lips to catch a faint taste of sweetness still upon them.

 

~~~

 

Any concerns Tony may have had about having Loki and Steve around in the same space were almost entirely soothed. This Loren was witty, smart, sassy yet sweet in an oddball sort of way. Classic artist material.

Tony had to wonder if it was a REALLY good mask, or if that was really Loki's inner side that Thor claimed the batshit crazy lunatic that trounced New York had. It made more sense than to think that Thor, of all people, would be a masochistic glutton for punishment by continuously caring and loving for a bitter, brittle, venomous, murderous madman who's only redeeming quality was that he could wear a fine suit or leather ensemble like was a God given right.

Scratch the last. Tony was going to deny that thought ever crossed his mind.

Any concerns, also, that Loki's voodoo in his kitchen might be their premature deaths, also, were roundly demolished. Not only was Loki's cooking safe, and healthy, but it tasted and smelled fantastic! Some casserole one pot wonder concoction of meat, eggs, and some herbs and spices, but there's also mulled fruit juices with spices and the moist scone-like sweet rosemary rolls were to DIE for.

 

Tension melted away, and the weary inventor found himself enjoying their breakfast, the three of them… and bless Captain America's heart, anything with a dish shape seemed to be a gift for him, because he tackled those dirty dishes of theirs like a trooper at the sink.

 

It was oddly domestic, really… how they were sitting, watching Mary Poppins. Well, as neither of them had seen it, Steve and Loren were avidly engrossed in the story. Tony, who'd been rather attached to it as a kid but later disenchanted when there was no magical salvation for HIS family, was comfortably dozing off with his head nested upon her lap, a warm pillow he claimed as Lord Stark of the Stark Empire.

When he woke later with a slow growing awareness, he found himself, surprisingly comfortable, and mercifully devoid of nightmares. It was… pleasant. It was also dark outside, judging by the windows, and Steve had long been gone. Upon the table sat the book, opened to the latest page Loki had written… obviously, another person's story. So, he must have made an addition to the monument as well as made another of those 'visits'.

Despite the domestic comfort of the situation, he was well aware that his head was now resting on a leather clad NOT lady-like lap. Carefully turning himself over slowly, he peered upward along that long figure clad in a loose green linen tunic. Loki was asleep. He wasn't even sure that the god had slept at all that previous night. But it's obvious he had now… and judging by the slack weary features, it was a submission to exhaustion. This began to make the wheels turn in Tony’s mind.

Loki hardly looked like the mad god or powerful ruthless alien he'd portrayed himself as. Or as the otherworldly sorcerer god he apparently was. He looked surprisingly human like this: head leaning back over the back of the couch and mouth slightly open with soft breaths. He must have worn himself to weariness with all of his magic and plots and trickery. And yet, he seemed oddly content with the engineer on his lap… especially since those long fingers were still threaded through Tony's wild mess of hair.

Tony really didn't want to disturb him.

He didn't know WHY he was so comfortable in this oddly domestic setting, but he's beginning to come to an odd thought. Here he was, trying to avoid his nightmares any way that he could… and every time he'd started to doze, they'd return in force. And yet, he slept peacefully in the presence of the God of Chaos not once, but twice since he'd returned to his tower. He's also had been weaned from the Milk of Amnesia (that had him sleeping like a log) while he was at the hospital, but he still slept fine there. Of course, he'd had a particular bird perched on him, sleeping comfortably nested in the blankets over his arc reactor.

Coincidence. It HAD to be coincidence. The implications otherwise would be, honestly, disastrous. Though, it's oddly mathematical that to add one crazy with another crazy it equaled a sane moment. If only the world worked that way.

Over the next few days… to the span of three weeks, they fell into an oddly comfortable rhythm without even realizing it. Mornings began with either Loki or Loren (depending on what audience they had) waking Tony, making breakfast, and making certain he was cleaned and ready, and the days were spent with Tony going into manic inventor mode in his lab, or doodling his ideas in board meetings on cocktail napkins or his pocket notebook when Pepper absconded with his Stark Pad.

If he's holed up in his lab, Loki would be a veritable saint by bringing him vittles to 'keep the mortal from withering away in his negligence', or if he was out and about, he'd treat lovely Loren to lunch. He would tend to bring in, or order in, dinner when Loki wasn't playing super-chef. And by super, Tony believed that Loki could slaughter every Iron Chef out there at their craft. Apparently a few millennia and a penchant for alchemy or Hogwarts potions or whatever Space Wizards did made for a shockingly brilliant skill with food to make it a culinary ART.

Loren Kirk had a certain persuasive power and was certainly charming the public. Both through the quiet interviews from survivors of the lost, to the adamant carving into the stone edifice before his building daily. Soon there were people bringing gifts of water, cookies, flowers, or even money to the woman who elegantly engraved the names and images of the people's face in the morning. The paparazzi had their sweep, but she was a clever force, and revealed nothing to the gossip hungry people save wonderful camera candy.

And Tony couldn't help feel an odd gut twisting bitter amusement that the very people that cooed and and approved of her efforts, were the very same that spoke words of fear, uncertainty and hate to the man that made the damage in the first place.

Both were the same person and this, oddly, Tony had to find an interesting irony. When he had the time, he went with Loren on her visits or he sat, sometimes, holding both of their cups of steaming coffee in the wee morning while she painstakingly etched with almost loving care images and words to immortalize and honor the dead.The Avenger couldn’t help but be amused by her antics. Mercifully, when he couldn’t make it, Steve or Clint generally spent time sitting on the steps as Loren carved or went on her trips… one obviously for protective honest friendly intent, the other for a crush Tony at every turn tried to dissuade and taunt to hell and back.

Occasionally, his 'bird' accompanied him from time to time, perched upon his shoulder when Loki began to tire of the attention of the growing masses and recognition. Or he'd flutter off to who knows where: disappeared like an alley cat and returned later after it grew dark. The evenings, however, were something unique, what Tony dubbed 'domestic bonding time'. They ate, talked, watched movies, played games, challenged each other to riddles… sometimes even attempted to teach rudimentary notions of their specialties.

And sometimes they bitched about their fathers like a couple of high school girls. Tony never met someone he had so much in common with, and he found it both reassuring and disconcerting.

Loki hadn't completely reformed into a flower giving love child by a long shot.

There have been Loki sightings now and then in the news, however, nothing to the extent of the assault on New York. At first, it spread mass panic, but as the odd events kept taking place, the general masses began to wane from fear to perplexity at the drastic alterations in his methods. He suspected that Loki was, in essence, simply trolling the Earth.

It ranged from transforming a herd of wild mustangs into unicorns to making an impressive towering ice sculpture of a Norse goddess appear in the middle of central park that lasted a week despite summer heat(to which every art critic in town HAD to pretentiously critique or gush over the massive piece of sculpted ice).Sometimes he dropped in on the Avengers on patrol simply to taunt and tease them, dragging them into an elaborate game of hide and go seek before the villain cackled off into the night.   
  
Even more baffling were the random acts of questionable benevolence: such as beating a mugger half to death in an alleyway, demanding street musicians to play for him and rewarding them with a wealth of priceless jewels, or even smashing his fist through a teenage girl's car window to crush her cell phone as she was texting and driving, scaring her half to death and resulting in her car to jump the curb and intimately kiss a mail box. The woman who clutched to her paper shopping bags like a lifeline (would have been hit without the diversion of the car) was just as shocked and couldn't utter a word for about a half hour.

And then, there was Tony's absolute favorite of all the Loki pranks...

The engineer sat in his lab, turning a screw driver and wriggling his fingers in the new glove as he tweaked the attenuation for optimal response and flexibility. The news was playing upon a holographic plane in the air to catch Tony up to date on recent events, however, he was only paying half a mind to that. His relatively full attention was on the suit he was bursting with inspiration over.

"In breaking news today… Senator Stern has been a recent victim in what he claimed to be 'An Act of Loki Terrorism'." His fingers stopped dead still as he snapped his head up. No. Sweet mercy. But there it was: the one man (one of many to be honest) that tried to make his life hell and rip everything from him. Face mottled, swelled with stress and frustration and a lovely shade of ruby rage, the politico was snarling into the microphone with spit flecks that streaked out like tiny wet comets.

"This madness must STOP! What kind of a world is it when a villain such as this Loki can run amok assaulting people…" Tony had to fight back a choke as he sipped his water, spluttered and gasped as the news channel revealed surveillance footage. And what footage it was!

The horned and armored God of Chaos held the senator by the foot and generously shook him like a rag doll as things fell from Stern’s pockets before he dropped the man carelessly. Crouching down, he scooped up the wallet among the other things littered about before he obviously whispered to the Senator. Fear was evident in the man's stricken posture and expression before the leather clad trickster vanished from sight.

It's…. well, it was fucking hilarious, to put it mildly. No matter how he knew that he had to chastise Loki for causing such mayhem to such an annoyingly public figure, the fact remained that he felt a little karmic catharsis in this. It was beautiful, really.

Almost as beautiful as an exceedingly familiar scent, one he'd come to know all too well, mysterious and rich… accented by chocolate and mint.

A soft crunch came from beside him, and Tony turned to look to the God of Mischief perched casually upon the counter top beside him, one leg crossed over the other primly and a box of suspiciously familiar green notoriety balanced on his lap.  Somehow, with a precision befitting magical royalty, he didn't spill a crumb as he nibbled amiably upon a chocolate covered cookie.

"You…" Tony accused with a finger pointed to the green eyed devil in his midst, however, as the box of Thin Mints was handed to him, Tony perked in glee, grinning as he shucked off his armored glove to collect the box like a child at Christmas then proceeded to dig in with boyish glee. "…are completely forgiven!"

However, as he saw Dum-e rolling past tugging a red Radio Flyer wagon laden with boxes and boxes of Girl Scout cookies stacked high, he stopped chewing slowly… finally realizing Loki had to have gotten the cookies from SOMEWHERE… and WHERE...

Before he could get a word in to ask Loki exactly what the HELL he's thinking...

"…where is SHIELD? These so called HEROES…these useless Avengers?! Where is Captain America? Where is IRON MAN?!"

Both of their eyes snapped to the screen, and a corrosive irritation dug within Tony. His mirth vanished as he glared to the puffing politician besmirching people who'd shed literally blood, sweat, and tears for the people of this country.

He only had a second to glance to Loki as he caught sight of a brief eerie green glow about the man before suddenly, on the news broadcast, he heard a familiar voice that made him turn to glance, before doing a double-take sharply to the man beside him to ensure he was still there.

"Handling matters more vital than you. Perhaps you should do this fair city a service and bind your treasonous tongue, you bellowing sow." Came a droll wry tone on the news. The screen split it's display as the network shared the view of another cameraman to show the God of Chaos in glorious horned and golden duds sitting gracefully, casually upon a lamp post. A box of cookies in hand, he chewed on a coconut treat with an almost bored expression.

"Ooooh, I see what you did there. Stuttgart trick. Smooth move David Copperfield." Tony murmured. He was beginning to recognize more of the madman's methods the more he has spent time with him.

A scream snapped both of their eyes to the crowd in the screen, and immediately Loki was treated to a suspicious 'what did you do' stare from the engineer. Much to Tony's surprise, the god looked just as confused as he before an annoyed huff escaped the deity. "Not everything that happens is my fault."

"LOKI!!!!" Came the cry of girls from the crowd, and as Tony lofted an eyebrow, the sorcerer reached up to rub over his eyes with a long suffering sigh.

"Let me amend that… not everything that happens is my fault INTENTIONALLY."

And as the pair both peered to the news broadcast, they were shown a rather shocking sight.

A hoard of young individuals, most female, were wearing green, black, and holding signs saying 'Loki' on them. And they began to chant.

Both of the Lokis (the one next to Tony and on the lamp pole) smiled slowly... coming to realize that this… this was ADORATION. His illusion raised his hand, a finger held aloft in graceful beckon for silence, and quiet they fell. He turned his attention, finally, to the red faced furious senator staring to the Asgardian Prince, and my… did he look rather uncomfortable.

"You were saying, Senator? I did nothing more than you do on a daily basis. You are merely irate because your power extends far, but you cannot touch me."

Out of Stern's reach physically, figuratively, and politically, and the prince seemed to revel in basking in it with a smug smirk and looking every bit like a cat taunting a dog from the other side of the window. Stern, for his part, was beginning to develop an odd twitch to his lower lip.

"And this is PROOF of how worthless the Avengers are… that Iron Man is nothing more than a JOKE!"

Suddenly Loki appeared before Stern to loom like a predator about to crush it's prey for mere sport. Immediately the man backed away, twitching and quivering in fear. A multitude of clicks could be heard as guns were drawn, however, no one dared to fire. Not yet.

"Ah, but the only jester I see is YOU. And a poor one at that. The Man of Iron is a worthier human than you will ever be. A true and brilliant warrior. If you are willing to carry a cataclysmic armament into the eternal Void to save all these lives, the lives of your PEOPLE,  as HE did…" Loki drawled off, shifting his gaze to the crowd who listened to his every word. Slowly, theatrically menacingly, the sorcerer leaned in closer to make the smaller man cringe back. "…THEN you may criticize."

"Tell him, Loki!" Called a female voice from the crowd, followed by others, his supporters cheered, and the crowd began to look confused.

Tony could only stare, looking equal parts uncomfortable and thoughtful. "Is that really what you think, Loki?"

A careless shrug escaped the god as he tackled into a box of coconut cookies.

"What you did was exceedingly brave. And a benefit to me."

Once more, the chanting upon the display drew their attention, and suddenly, Loki bore a wickedly vicious grin.

Senator Stern began to gesture to the armed officers and guards around him, flustering as he pointed to Loki. "What are you waiting for? Arrest him!"

"You're a mean man."

Like a silenced storm, chaos died abruptly as a little girl, adorned and bannered in the tell tale green regalia of the Girl Scouts came walking up to stand before the steps, pouting ominously to Stern. Everyone, even the media commentators fell silent as the girl held up a suspiciously masculine looking wallet and waved it before she pointed to Loki. "He's the nice one… he bought ALL of my cookies! And told me my hair is pretty!"

"Give that back to me you little sh-" Tensing, the senator jerked forward a step nearer the girl, reaching out his hand towards her. She backed up instantly and hugged her hard earnings to her chest as she edged fearfully but defiantly from the suit clad man.

"Oh, but dear Senator Stern… you wouldn't DREAM of taking money from a child… would you?" The smirking Aesir spoke in a stage whisper, perfectly so the microphones picked up the sounds loud and clear. Now…  the eyes of the crowd that had been condemning to Loki turn expectantly to the man that had been rallying them.

By then, Loki's assorted mob were beginning to chant his name. Such a devilishly coy look he was settling the motley crew before he smiled in enigmatic wickedness as he raised his finger to his lips, and once more, they silenced with an expectant hush.

Turning with a swirl of the long green cape, the sorcerer approached the end of the steps before the girl before he bowed with an aristocratic elegance and regal respect… deeply. "My Lady, I am grateful for your esteem and fine treats. They lighten my spirit."

A shot rang out, a person screamed in terror, and so many people ducked for cover. However, the bullet passed harmlessly through the illusion to bite into the ground behind, banishing the magical image in gold and green light as laughter echoed and faded, revealing to all that the Trickster was still alive and well.

As he sat back in his seat Tony glared at the display with a soft pout of a frown with a jut of his lower lip and rubbed it absently with his thumb as he watched the chaos that errupted. That shot. It was from off screen, and judging by the angle, a sniper. And had Loki actually been there… it would have hit him squarely in the chest.

Someone intended to take him down.

"That is an insufferable maggot." The God of Lies remarked frankly as he exhaled a deep breath before he absently peered over the the chocolate striped surface of the coconutty cookie’s terrain, smirking subtly to the sight of the political downfall he'd practically instigated in the 'good' senator.

"So, Loki… why him? There's a billion morons in this world, why did you pick that particular yoyo to unravel?" Tony inquired with a wry glance aside to the deity who sat beside him as if he belonged upon the table. At Tony's side. Turning himself in his chair, the springs squeaked as he leaned back in it, fingers laced over his torso as the inventor lofted a dark brow.

The look the taller man settled upon the engineer was utterly unreadable… enigmatic secrecy and thought painting those aristocratic features before he gestured with a smooth motion of his hand.

"Jarvis, if you would be so kind… that scene that you shared with me from earlier that I particularly disliked."

"Of course, Mr. Loki." The AI intoned with a soft mellow note of amiability as he brought up a display up into the air: the video of that debacle… no, WITCH HUNT worthy of Salem… in the Weaponized Suit Defense Program Hearings brought forth by the Senate Armed Services Committee. 

Tony's amusement faded somewhat, face turning sharply sour at the memory: the audacity of the pricks that attempted to steal Tony's very creations, his identity. To him, it would have been paramount to kidnapping his own child.

"So why'd you want to pull on that ass clown's rubber nose? What do you have to gain from it, Loki? Why should you even bother, or even defend ME?"

A thick tangible silence fell within the room as Loki watched that video with sharp viridian eyes, and he paused at the sight of the video Tony who delivered cocky kisses hand after hand before he turned to the real Tony beside him.

"Because that man lead a sham, Stark… a farce of a trial. The ignorant do not understand the capabilities and gifts that you have, and they fear you. The powerful see what you are capable of and want to take your crafts, then, they will come for YOU next. For you are unlike another upon this world, Tony."

An irreverent snort escaped Tony Stark as he sat up straighter, leaning forward to rest his elbows upon his knees as he stared shrewdly to the man before him. "Him? Power? Oh please, you masterfully showed everyone today that he can't even raise his hand against a little GIRL without committing political suicide. That moron doesn't care about anything else except himself and playing spin doctor." And yet, there was an edge of doubt: something did not seem right. WHY would there be a sniper on location so soon. So…. prepared?

"Ah, he is expendable, however, he is but a pawn, that I can tell. But WHO'S pawn? Why did they not aim for my head? Had that bullet struck, it would have been intended to incapacitate me… not kill me."

"Bullshit, you bounce bullets like peas."

A crafty smirk curved the Trickster's lips. "True, however, they did not know that, and the INTENT is what I had noticed… and I am very, very, curious why. If I am a threat that should be eliminated, why not make it a fatal blow?"

"Because…" Tony mused, brows furrowing slightly.

"Because they, whomever they are, are gathering, collecting… stockpiling armaments."

"That's why they were after my suits." Tony sat up straight, staring to the man beside him as realization struck. This… this could be bad. No. WORSE.    
  
SHIELD wanted his goods, but Nick Fury was the go to head. And he knew their style. They boasted and swaggered to IMPRESS him, first. Besides, Coulson voiced his dismay at the hearing, even sounded relieved that Tony had turned it into a victory. No, not SHIELD.   
  
Tense energy brought the genius to his feet, and he began to pace, working out his thoughts as he plucked up his screwdriver, tossing it from hand to hand as he toyed with it just as he toyed with his thoughts.

"The Five Rings? I thought I trashed them with the Mandarin… but that was BEFORE this. And they didn't want the secrets of my suits… they wanted ME to solve their little heating problem with the Extremis."

He furrowed his brows slightly. "Hammer's too darn inept… he's more pawn than chess master. Plus, he's locked up in the hoosegow, so he's out of the possible pool." Tilting his head aside slightly, Tony frowned softly as he pursed his lips. "Let's see, Stane, backstabbing asshole supreme, didn't take orders from no-one, Whiplash, ditto… and both are dead…" Reaching up, Tony rubbed over his eyes, groaning low. "Damn, there's so MANY people I've pissed off in the past that I don't have a CLUE who wants payback on me AND have ambitions for world domination."

He paused, then turned his attention to Loki, cocking his head. "What about this Dr. Doom? Haven't met the guy yet, but he's trying the whole world domination thing, right?"

An irreverent and yet still elegant snort escaped Loki as the deity rolled his eyes as if recalling a particularly annoying memory. "That blustering buffoon propositioned for me to join his cause."

Silence nestled between them as Tony turned to point his screw driver to the ancient deity. "You didn't tell him 'no' did you."

"Ah, you are beginning to know me, Stark." Loki bore a wickedly amused smirk before he lifted his shoulders. "I told him I needed to think over my prospects. He VERY graciously bestowed unto me time to ponder my choice."

"Graciously, huh. Guy sounds like a Prickus Maximus."

"His modestly knows no bounds." Loki stated dryly, though irony dripped from the smile twisting his lips. He paused, however, turning his gaze to the display where newscasters were debating over the recent event, and his attention fell upon the group that seemed to worship him in the crowd. That, was, indeed, a surprise.

Tony cleared his throat as he followed the god's gaze to the oddly supportive group, mostly young, mostly female, but all rather adamant. It's… well, it was funny as hell, a tad disturbing, but even more interesting, was that Loki seemed to be puzzling them out. He's, obviously, not used to receiving public approval so openly, apparently.

Wait, weren't Prince's, like, revered and loved, worshiped and all of that? Listening to Thor, the Thunderer certainly made it sound that way.

"You know, I can look up some info on that, for you." The mortal offered gently to the deity, smiling softly as he settled to sit upon the table beside the god, fingers laced loosely between his knees in that relaxed comfortable position. The God of Madness turned sharp attentive emerald eyes to the inventor who met that probing stare unflinching: open and blunt.

"I would be appreciative of your efforts, Stark." Loki finally stated.

The human nodded, bobbing his head in agreement before he glanced up, focusing upon the air before him and gesturing. A display appears before him, glowing, and he spoke to his AI, attuned with accessing data flow on a seemingly instinctive level.

"Jarvis, begin a search for Loki in websites, more specifically, anything about appreciation, support, or even… ugh… fansites." Blinking in surprise to the hoard of results suddenly flooding the display, he tapped and moves certain things, sorting and casting aside data he deems useless. However, his fingers paused, twitching slightly.

Oh god.

THAT.

"Uhm… I think I should warn you… where this is going to take you, is into the depths of depravity, insanity, and the worst possible reaches that the human mind can go. It's probably going to disturb you. I… tend to avoid it."

"I assure you, Stark, there is no torment so great that I cannot bear." The sorcerer replied grimly.

"All right… just warning you." And with a tap of his finger, he opened Tumblr.

 

~~~

 

Loki was preening like a peacock, and the smarmy smug bastard was fucking LOVING teasing and tormenting Tony to no end, and by the point Tony managed to crawl his way to his bar for liquid sanity, he knew it was a horrid, horrid mistake he'd made.

Hell, how was HE supposed to know?! How the hell was he supposed to realize that clicking on one little world could bring up a wealth of speculation, bizarre art, and the most brutal abuses of Photoshop he'd ever seen… and he'd thought he was used to that sort of thing.

Hello internet.

Oh, he'd known about his own 'Stark raving mad fan club' and he'd enjoyed being an idol and superstar down to every drop of champagne, flare of flashbulb, and gossiping gaggling women on morning shows that clucked like primped up hens.

He'd never speculated in his life that he'd have unnamed, faceless hoards happily thrusting him into absurd relationships and sexual situations with the God of Madness. Said god was still gleefully digging deeper into the archive of shameful depravity, box of cookies in hand being munched on like freshly puffed popcorn.

Glass clinked against glass as he poured himself two fingers of whiskey… then decided to add another two into the tumbler for good measure over the ice ball nestled within. Raising the glass to his lips, Tony sipped the chilled scotch with a deep sigh. Slowly, he closed his eyes, exhaling as he rubbed his hand over his face with a sound of frustration.

"Well, now, trouble in paradise?"

A hiccuped choke escaped the engineer and he jerked suddenly, his hand holding the tumbler spasmed slightly and sent the fine brew sloshing slightly over his fingers. He hadn't even realized he was on his feet, scrabbling at the bar's surface for… well, he didn't know what, but instincts demanded something in hand NOW.

However, as he met familiar bright green eyes, and a dryly quirked smirk of ruby lips, he exhaled, relief washed through the terribly jittered inventor. Bidding his merrily skipping and capering heart to calm, he reached out to a bar rag, groaning as he eyed the crimson maned assassin who entered from her most recent escapade.

"Damnit, Natasha." Tony pointed to the woman as he raised his eyebrows to settle a look of honest earnest command. "You! You get a new rule. When you're in the tower, and it's not an emergency, you have to wear a collar with a bell. I've been through cardiac arrest far too many times lately, I don't need another."

The assassin dropped her duffle with a muffled thump and her boots clumped deliberately upon the floor as she strode to the bar to pull out a prized bottle of vodka from the fridge beneath it.

"Have you, now. I see you've been rather busy here while I was away." Natasha poured herself a healthy amount… for one of Soviet heritage… into a glass before she gulped it back with a sigh. The scarlet tressed woman tapped her finger on the rim before she moved to sit upon the barstool.

A few bruises graced her jaw, knuckles showed obvious signs of close quarters combat, and there was the thin lines evident from holding garrote wire in her hands.

He knew the signs.

He also knew when to keep quiet… a lesson hard earned for THE Tony Stark.

Mounting one of the tall seats himself, he hummed a low sound as he hunkered down with his elbows planted upon the bar top. "If it's about Stern, I had NOTHING to do with it, despite the besmirching of my name. I was as surprised as everyone else."

An arched brow loft slightly before Natasha's lips quirked slightly at the corner, curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head. "'Surprised' isn't the word to describe how I saw you when I walked in. You hadn't looked this downright 'sick' since the Palladium poisoning. I ask again. Trouble in paradise?"

Breathing a grimacing snort, the billionaire nudged his tumbler to glide upon the sweat wet upon his bar top before he drew a deep draught before sighing.

"I saw something… that frankly disturbed the hell out of me."He remarked bluntly, raising his eyebrows slightly.  When the Black Widow's sheer attentive presence and silence goaded him forward, he sighed and bobbed his head slightly, quirking a shoulder as he stared down to his drink, really not wanting to make eye contact. "Have you heard of… Frostiron?"

The ex KGB operative sat up sharply, attention focusing with laser precision. "I have not heard of that. Is it a secret weapon we don't know about, yet? Something for Fury to know about?" Frostiron. That sounded like a weapon’s name with a Cold War nod. She didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

A low snort escaped Tony to echo into his glass as he raised it to his lips, voice sounding hollow as he mutterd into his whiskey. "Oh, it's pretty damaging." Setting his glass down, he then reached out to the bottle of Vodka to begin pouring for his sister in arms. "I'll tell you what, Nat. Pull out your Stark phone. Go ahead… now look up tumblr…no… not er…t-u-m-b-l-r." He coaxed the assassin through the process. "Right. Now enter Frostiron."

The calm, cool, professionalism upon the pale features of one of the world's most brilliant spies suddenly burst into eyebrow raised surprise. The Black Widow… squeaked. A strange odd strangled noise smothered into her deadly hand that darted swiftly over her mouth. And then her shoulders began to shake.

For the life of her, no matter how hard she tried, Natasha Romanov could not keep a straight face. Tony saw her valiant effort before he growled a low sound of embarrassed annoyance, rolling his eyes before a hand was flung up in flustered exasperation.

"Oh for… go ahead! Get it out of your system."

The red death, the most graceful and deadly of spies and assassins burst into laughter, a slightly husky smoky sound as she flicked through image after image, chuckling and glowing brilliantly with mirth before she struck in the most unpredictable of ways.

The cold ruthless killer leaned forward to wrap her arms around Tony's shoulders for a rare sisterly hug, catching him rather by surprise in the unexpectedly friendly gesture: a shocking sight of heartfelt warmth from a cold blooded assassin. He awkwardly pat her back, uncertain what to do with his hands that wouldn't have them broken. He could smell her… though. Blood, gunpowder, smoke, metal, salt. Violence and battle.

"Thanks Tony… I actually needed that after this mission." She murmured against his neck, warmly before drawing back, smiling still as she sipped her potent brew with comfort and ease.

Strangely enough, Tony's ruffled mood seemed to have eased somewhat, and he fell into a light grin, rueful and wry as he picked up his glass to tap against hers with a clear chime. "Well, as long as you being entertained at my expense keeps me from injury, I guess I'm fine."

"You haven't actually become… compromised… have you, Tony?" She inquired with a teasing purr, lips pulled into a wicked amusement.

"Oh HELL no! Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist, here! I'm the ladies man, extraordinaire!"

"So I hear. Anthony Stark, Iron Man, has graciously taken in a poor artist woman into his hospitality as she works on a monument. A real Princess story. Aren't you a little old to be a Prince Charming?"

"Oh… that's clever, Nat. Sneaky as hell. Well played. She does a service…don't give me that look... and I get an interesting house guest and good PR icon. Everyone wins." Tony stated with grandiose blasé casualness, seeming to be unruffled by how closely she'd delved in on the topic.

Natasha drank slowly as she watched the ever expressive man, studying his every habit and tell to read him precisely. "How far has your relationship gone?" A graceful red brow jumped as Tony began to turn several shades of red in response.

"Oh no, HELL no! I'm totally not going out with her. Uh uhn… no relationships. Tony Stark is officially DONE with relationships. That's it. Zip. Finito. That Mayflower's sailed and GONE." The inventor's hands waved in exaggerated gesturing to accentuate his points.

"Oh? Where is she, right now, then?"

The beleaguered genius groaned, as he reached up to rub over his face.

"Laughing at my expense."

 

~~~

 

Take the God of Lies, and Earth's Wiliest Spy/psychoanalyst, put them into a room… and what was the end result? A very nervous Tony Stark.

The only reason THAT wasn't too suspicious to the astute assassin, was because of what Loki… or rather Loren was doing. Doing to him.

More specifically, what she's doing to a red, white, and blue popsicle.

She'd waltzed in, as casual and friendly as ever, complaining about the tail end summer heat conversationally as she strode to the freezer and withdrew one of the Rocket Pops. Of course, Tony would comment that he called them 'Capsicles', named after their own similarly colored once frozen friend.

And then she began to do things… terrible things to that sweet treat. Her tongue, sweet mercy, slithered and slid sensually over the increasingly phallic looking dessert, humming in delight at the sweet chill taste and feel as she slurped and suckled in a manner that could only be described as exquisite porn.

Currently, he had his glass gripped in both hands over his lap, because every lick, every sultry slurp and suckle was unhinging him a little more and more…

And he knew WHY Loki was doing this! Tony's a lousy liar for someone who knew his tells… however, if he was being tortured into arousal, he's sweating, flushing, and fidgeting galore, squirming helplessly… the very same responses. It's actually a brilliant counter to the Black Widow's infamous observational skills.

That, and Loki REALLY did seem to enjoy seeing him squirm.

He's glad, at least, that SOME things were beginning to work better. It's not feeling as strained or lackluster as it had before. No, his arousal was certainly feeling a bit more acute.

And the two of them, oh mercy… in between performing oral molestation upon a child's snack, Loren answers Natasha's questions, and the two, interestingly, seem to converse quite easily despite one politely probing and the other coyly revealing nothing. One thing, of which he was noticing, is they both enjoy finding amusement at his expense.

It was when Loren swallowed back the popsicle, no DEEP THROATED it straight to the stick and he could see her long slender pale throat moving with visible swallows… his groin throbbed with an unspeakable desperate lust, and a ragged low moan escaped Tony.

"Lo, you're killing me here!"

Finally, she withdrew the dwindled treat before she settled Tony a wry look with an amusedly cocked brow. "Do you not have medication to take?"

YES his groin announced, his trapped aroused length twitching violently, bringing a vicious shudder through Tony as his mind shamefully snapped to the gel he'd been 'self treating' himself with for the past few weeks. Embarrassment and shame were baggages tossed off his mental train along the way as he began to indulge in focusing upon just feeling GOOD.

"Uh… oh… yeah, yeah… meds… gotta take 'em…" Tony finally wriggled his way off of the stool, setting the glass atop the bar, and he prayed, PRAYED neither noticed that his jeans were visibly straining in the most obscene of manners. He turned away from the women nestled at his bar to make his shuffle of shame to his room.

Over the past weeks, he'd come to admit that Loren was to going crop unavoidably up in his fantasies whether he wanted to, or not. And, hey, if it got the job done, then all the better. Loki made a pretty damn sexy woman, Tony had to boil down the fact honestly. Exotic, beautiful, and there's a world of naughtiness in her. There's also a sensuality in her movements… far more noticeable in her female form, and easier to appreciate.

But now, he's seeing these aspects in Loki's male form… and it's downright disturbing how graceful, how elegant the sorcerer could be. His hands, especially… they were so very deft and tapered.

And then there's the other issue. The self pleasuring, while not what he'd LIKE to do… follows with a bitter realization that the post pleasure haze will be followed by sleep. And nightmares.

Loren was alone as Tony entered the den at midnight, flicking deftly through holographic displays before her and writing in a hard leather bound book. Her long hair was pulled up in a high messy bun stuck with his kitchen chopsticks, and she seemed to be hard at work gathering her data with patient study. She paused, raising her head to peer to Tony as he entered looking weary, troubled, and haunted.

As had become her habit, she shifted her legs aside on the couch, and pat beside her, beckoning him over as she reaches for the blanket resting on the end of the L shaped wide plush couch.

He shuffled over automatically and settled down to lay beside Loren with his head pillowed on her lap, and comfortable under the cover.

Dully, mutely, he stared to his modern hearth devoid of fire as he listened to the soft scratching of quill that danced over parchment.

"Sleep with me."

The soft scratches stopped as Loren snapped her head up to look to Tony, eyebrows raised as alert green eyes locked upon the mortal who… up until this point, seemed borderline on the terrified side of disturbed at that jewel mine of amusement Loki found on that human archive

"I thought you bore no intention for carnal acts with me, Stark." She delighted at the awkward flush that took over the man's face, reveling in the sight of his squirm on the couch as her words apparently had an effect on him.

"Dammnit…that's not what I mean!" Huffing a breath, he seemed to ease. A long nailed hand reached out to caress through the wild mess of brown hair, gently stroking through the chocolate toned tousled locks bearing the subtlest hints of silver here and there… betraying to her that, despite his youthful personality and energy, he's still mortal; as fleeting as a dream in his brief life span.

"Then what DO you mean?"

"Well…" He began, but even as she soothingly pet his head, his words lose their frustration and emphasis, becoming a soft admission as he spoke. "…I know you've probably noticed it, but I have really bad panic attacks and nightmares when I try to sleep. But when you're there… I actually sleep pretty well. I see that YOU get sleep with me, sometimes, too."

Loren tilted her head aside slightly as she peered down to the precocious human resting upon her lap before a faint smile graced her lips as she plucked up the book, writing within the page once more to finish her thoughts.

"Perhaps I find you comfortable." She admitted enigmatically before finally setting the book aside and nestled the quill within the box on the side table after cleaning the nib before finally she dropped her entire attention to the mortal who'd made such a ludicrous demand of her. Slowly, that female form bled back into the male, and Loki merely tilted his head, looking somewhat odd with that bun. Plucking the chopsticks free, the raven tresses fall down, framing the pale elegantly crafted features as he stared to Tony.

"Why do you trust me so much, Stark? By all logic, you should be as wary and cast me from you as others do. Are you not afraid of what curse I may place upon you? For you to wake with a dagger in your back, if you wake at all?" There was no denying the bitter edge gracing the sorcerer's words, some long standing issue Tony could only begin to scratch the surface of… however, he'd already begun to suspect a lot of social and emotional damage had been wrought long before even Thor set foot in New Mexico.

"Because you haven't harmed me yet. Oh, you talk big, and I know you LOVE seeing me squirm… but that Chitauri fiasco aside? You've been relatively harmless to not just me, but the world, in general. Oh, top tier nuisance, I'll grant you that. But you seem to be altruistically pranking instead of actual malicious 'villainy'." He then pursed his lips before he reached up to that hand still in his hair and tugged with his own work calloused digits, drawing it to peer to the long fingers, the pale flesh and the delicate bone structure of the sorcerer's hand… tapered fingers betraying skill and a grace with artistic gifts. He studied the body part as one would an odd object of intrigue from a curio shop, squinting slightly as he poked the bone structure, tested the muscle elasticity with prods and felt over the pliant soft skin.

"Most of all, I trust you won't turn so easily on me… because I have a feeling that of all the places, the worlds, the hidey holes you could have picked… this one's your best defense. But more so…" Honey brown hues raised to the emerald toned ones of the god that peered to him with a shrewd intensity, intelligence well and evident. "… I think you're happy here. I think…" He grins with a rakish amusement. "…you might even like me. What a scandal THAT would be, huh. A high and mighty god and a lowly mortal as friends."

"Is that what you think of me?" Loki inquired in the softest of whispers, nearly lost save for the intimate silence nestled around them. "A… friend?"

Tony remained silent for a long moment as he mulled over the word... the question. "Well, I wouldn't ask to sleep with an enemy."

Disbelief ran rampant, screaming and stark across Loki's face before he leaned back into the couch to laugh heartily, shaking his head. "You mad, mad mortal!"

"Thanks for the irony rich flattery." Tony remarked dryly, simply staring to the bizarrely amused man. He then huffed a soft breath before settling his palm against Loki's, splaying his fingers to match up his hand against the pale one, and it's odd to him to see how small, almost childlike they look against the god's. And normally he's touchy about his height, doing outrageous things to make him as seemingly big as possible to keep up in the public world and not be over-looked.

But this… it was oddly amusing, and he saw the questioning draw of those dark brows upon the pale face, the Trickster attempting to puzzle out what on Earth/Midgard/whatever Tony was doing.

"Loki, anyone tell you how big you are? I mean… DAMN, your hands are HUGE!"

This, oddly, seemed to take Loki by surprise, as if he'd never been told such a thing, or even CONSIDERED it. Tony began to wonder about that. Comparatively, Thor loomed over Loki, and the Thunder God always made Tony feel like a fox next to a giant good humored bear. Are all Asgardians super sized? Does that make HIM super tiny? It would explain why the Corsican Brothers seem to enjoy treating him like a pet or a toy.

No amount of lifters or custom platform shoes were going to solve THAT problem.

"Stark… for someone who SHOULD know what NOT to say… sometimes you say the unexpectedly best things."

A tangled ball of yarn of a compliment, however, he'd take it as that.

"Thanks, I think. Say, since we're having moments of deep thoughts and odd honesties, can I ask you a question… beside this one." The inventor scrunched his nose as he releases Loki's hand to point to the sorcerer above him. "I know you… genius, here."

A crafty smirk drew itself upon the aristocratic features before Loki lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. "Very well. What postulation is ponderously probing in your mind, Mortal?"

"If you could have one thing, anything at all, to wish for… what would it be?"

Power? Glory? A ginormous pimped out throne to lord over the multiverse? Mermaid Caviar? The ultimate book of wizarding knowledge? These were the first things shifting through Tony's mind after he asked, tilting his head aside slightly as he deeply considered more traditional villainous wet dreams. Loki, for his part, seems to stew, chewing on the question with deep contemplation.

"No limit?"

"Yeah. Anything at all. Shoot."

Nodding, Loki closed his eyes as he considered deeply.

"What I would wish for… was for there to be a world like those in those movies. A world of Disney. There, I think, I would be happy."

This completely threw Tony off kilter, and he blinked, staring up to the man who inspired so much fear and chaos. Well, THAT came out of left field. Yeah, he knew, especially via Jarvis, that Loki seemed to have taken an interest in the magical tales, (Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, and Beauty and the Beast especially for some strange reasons), but he didn't think it was anything more than studying a topic to death before tackling another genre.

Then again… Disney… Magic… happily ever afters… yeah, he could see it to be idealistic.

"All right, I think I kind of need for you to elaborate on that. Can you explain more?"

"The fantasy realms of this 'Disney', I find to be rather enticing. Magic is shown to be both glorious and terrible, but always great. But most of all, it seems to be what crafts dreams. The Poppins woman, for example, I can entirely relate to."

All right, this… Tony could begin to see.

"You like to teach subtle lessons and manipulate others with your wit and sparkly magic?" Flat and level was the stare Tony received to his wry remark, and he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Hey, I'm not saying it's bad, but it's her bag of tricks, not mine. I grew out of it long ago. Stuff like that doesn't happen in Midgard. There are kids everywhere that are never saved." A faint hint of long held bitterness laced those words, and that brought a shrewd look from the sorcerer.

"Perhaps this world simply forgot how to believe in magic instead of rebuffing or fearing it. Besides… it was not the children she sought to save. It was their father." Loki stated with a deep thoughtfulness touched by a deep bite, a sharp edge graced his words. "THAT does not happen in ANY of the Nine Realms. That is why I would wish for a world of Disney… where such things COULD be possible and magic would be everywhere, every day, beloved by those that visit it."

"Y'know… that's a pretty nice wish…"

"If impossible."

"I dunno about that. In the wise words of a great man, 'Nothing is impossible. Merely highly improbable'." A grand grin graced Tony's lips as he stared up to the deity. "So why Beauty and the Beast?"

To this Loki bore a wry snort of irony. "Ah, my dear Stark, is it not rather obvious? A perfect mirror to the fall of Thor."

Huh. He'd never thought of it that way before… but it sort of fit. Perfectly, actually, and disturbing in a way. Worthiness could easily be transposed for 'true love', and humanity swapped for divinity. Apparently, from what stories Loki shared, his brother was a bit of a hot headed 'beast'. Though, the notion of Loki as 'Gaston' drew the urge to snort… and he didn't want to get a swat from his Godliness.

"And you?" This soft question snapped Tony from his amused musings to look up.

"What about me?"

"What would YOU wish for, Stark?" Loki inquired as he peered intently to the man resting upon his lap. "What deep desire would YOU seek?"

Thickness like a suffocating lump gathered in Tony's throat, and he had to pry his gaze from those emerald hues, turning his stare to the windows, however, that cool unforgivingly strong hand cupped his jaw, forcing his head to turn, to meet that probing gaze once more.

"Nothing." He finally croaked in a hoarse voice.

"Even the man who has everything longs for something."  
"Because everything I've ever wanted came with prices way too high. And often, people got hurt. So…yeah. I don't make wishes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Finals finals finals! Let the panic begin! I have this new chapter in, and... yeah, if you made it to this point, you'll know I'm probably not going to apologize much longer for making a thumping long chapter.
> 
> I love all of you! All of your comments, your support, it makes me excited to write more, and I'm certainly happy that my brainchild has plenty of people to play with. Hail Hydra to you all. Yes, I am not above planting a meme to see if you fabulous folk read my thank notes, too.
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with an abacus would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des). 
> 
> Now, for the GOODIES!!!:
> 
> 1\. FIND THAT CHEECH AND CHONG REFERENCE!!! C'mon. I dare you.
> 
> 2\. The Marx Bros song from the last chapter is Cosi Cosa, which is an Americanized version of Cosi e Cosa which basically means a little of this and a little of that. Fun song, and cenetered around an insanely huge Italian feast.
> 
> 3\. C'mon, like no one else saw the Thor/Beast similarity.
> 
> 4\. Big Kudos to DBANANZA for getting the Shatner Quote. "Double Dumbass on you" was from Star Trek IV: Voyage home, yet another tale of people trying to contend with 'current' Earth dwellers. No whales her, though, folks.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Oh look, it's the F word!
> 
> 6\. Wow, a number 6! Also... if Loki had to dress up as a Disney Character, which one would you think he'd look best in? Let's get your input!
> 
>  
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> Ditto for Disney Characters.
> 
> And much love for Gary Shandling for being a great sport.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	9. Nine for a Kiss (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Dr. Doom for the first time. They really don't hit it off. Loren meets Pepper... and the CEO...KNOWS. What happens next? Where do the go now?
> 
> Why are the chapters getting longer?
> 
> It's completely worth it, I swear!
> 
> Revision Edit: Still getting these out. The longer the chapter, the longer the revision.

 

An explosion rocked Central Park, rustling the trees and sending birds and squirrels aflutter and leaves flitting and dancing through the air like a bizarre urban park Phantasia. Wood splintered and a car alarm bleat in protest, combined with the abusive tones of crunching metal and breaking glass as a car came tumbling through the park after a patriotic clad figure that managed to dive into a defensive roll out of the way.

The leather adorned archer, however, clung like a marmoset to one of the broad tree branches.

"Holy hell, Cap, if you're gonna piss him off, do it away from me!" Clint groused as he vaulted himself up to hunker perched atop the branch, whipping his bow from his shoulder as he squinted, searched for the source of the assault. An arrow sung as it sheared through the air to the form of metal and green he spied from between the leaves, however, a low grunt of annoyance escaped Hawkeye as an unsatisfying 'dink' betrayed that the arrow didn't do much good against their adversary.

"I'm not trying to make him mad…" The great American Hero barked back to his quipping comrade, grunting as he heaved his shield like an olympian with a discus, singing in it's shearing path towards the massive clunky robot that closed in on him. "…I'm trying to break him!"

"Hey, look on the bright side… at least it's not one of Stark's! It might be hard to beat, but it's still pretty crappy craftsmanship." Clint jested playfully as the vibranium disc amputated off one of the massive robotic mitts. Swiftly through the woods, the archer was moving nimbly as he darted to leap from tree branch to tree branch like a leather clad squirrel, seeking to gain a more clear shot at their robed and metal clad enemy.

Dr. Von Doom was the Avengers' hemorrhoid: an irritating pain in the ass that got bigger as time passed until it had to be surgically removed. The pair of Avengers mercifully distracted him and his mechanical behemoth from the streets to a safer less populated area, but it still proved irksome at best.

A glimpse of gold and green warned Clint from the edge of his keen vision before he jerked back to the tree trunk in an instinctive gripping to the bark. A brilliant blaze of green fire zoomed past, singing a spot of grass with a muted hiss. Snapping his gaze up, the Avenger settled an irate glare to the God of Chaos enthroned resplendent upon a tree branch in his ceremonial leather and gold armor, elegant horns curved from his helmet like the fangs of a serpent. He sat with a rather bored blasé demeanor, one knee crossed over the other and his chin propped artistically upon his palm in elegant boredom.

"Loki!" Immediately the archer raised his arrow, the gleaming silvery head caught  the moonlight as he aimed it to the Villain who'd been raising SUCH spectacles as of late and confusing the hell out of SHIELD, leading the secret organization to strangle itself in a myriad of assumptions about his motivations. Clint still thought Loki's just trying to confuse them out of sheer amusement. Like tossing a grape at an ant hill: Nothing really dangerous, but it sent them scurrying in defense and confusion. It still annoyed the hell out of him, though.

"Ah, so good of you to remember me, Barton. How have you been faring?"

"What the hell are you doing here?! Are you working for Doom?" At the rather disgusted snort that still managed to be elegant Clint furrowed his brows, deciding to amend his question. "Working WITH him?" With the continued annoyed look upon the aristocratic madman, Clint was beginning to wonder WHY the syntax even matters.

"I am here merely to observe and… of course, provide you with a distraction."

"Gee you shouldn't have!" the Archer sniped as he fired an arrow, highly annoyed when it thunked into the wood after fizzling out an obvious illusion, Loki appeared sitting primly perched beside the spot.

"And I seem to be handling my task rather easily, I believe." Loki remarked with no little amusement that danced upon the calm refined features.

"Yeah? Well, you haven't done ANYTHING yet."

"Bravo on stating the obvious, my dear Hawkeye. However, I need not lift a finger to distract you." A firm meaningful look settled upon the archer, and as Clint suddenly tensed, from the cacophony of Captain America's battle rose a loud roaring of what sounds to be thrusters.

Leaping and pulling himself to a higher branch, sharp blue eyes scanned the night skies… and he could see the brilliant landmark of the Avenger's tower. And a large object that headed straight towards it.

"Oh shit…  oh shit oh shit… Captain! Steve!" Clint barked as he tapped at his earpiece, panic rising as their base, undefended save for their recovering comrade, was approached with greater danger. And then he realized one crucial detail he'd missed until now.

The coms have been silent for the past few minutes, since he'd crossed paths from Loki.

Tony was helpless… defenseless at this point! Clint could only turn to stare with growing horror clenching his insides to the smugly amused face of the God of Mischief who merely tilted his head in acknowledgment.

The archer nearly jumped out of his skin as a loud screech sheared the silence. A massive robotic head suddenly came thudding into the ground below, kicking up grass and dirt in a chaotic spray… and Hawkeye himself stared into glowing blue featureless eyes.

YES I'M BACK IN BLAAAAAAAACK!!!

From his crouched position where he'd obviously spiked the head of Doom's creation like a football, Iron Man rose with the hiss of hydraulics and hum of servos drowned out by wild guitar riffs and bombastic drum beats. Despite his usual flash and flair, the new suit was a matte black, sleek and obviously something easily meant to be lost to visual and technological scanning… and Clint suspected that was the entire purpose of the new design. Covert movement. Except there was ONE thing wrong with it.

"Hey, Tony! Nice suit, but I don't know if you know this…" Clint hollered out to his comrade in arms in order to be heard over the music. "but one of the key parts about stealth is being QUIET!!!"   
  
With a soft hiss, the face plate popped open to reveal a rather unabashed genius inventor who grinned with shameless delight and charming amusement to the blond ensconced in a tree.

“I surprised YOU, didn’t I? See, that’s the sort of Stealth no one expects, Birdemic. Stark Style!”   
  
“Your Style, Tin Man, is ANYTHING but Stealth! And should you even be OUT here? Being all old and broke and stuff, shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” Clint countered back, pointing an accusing finger to his armored comrade.   
  
“Hey, knock it off, Tweetie! You’re ruining my entrance! I want to get in a good fight while there’s still some of the song left.”   
  
“Hmm… I rather enjoy this melody.” Loki remarked with a slight tilt of his head, though, by the subtle furrowing of his brows, he may not have been as enthusiastic about the loudly blaring music as he claimed. “I believe… this dance is mine, Barton. The question is, my dear Man of Iron...” He drawled as he straightened to stand in graceful grandeur, leather creaking in soft whispers with the movement and the long cape billowed gloriously behind him. “Can you keep up?”   
  
Eldritch green fire danced above his palm as a wicked leer was shared to Iron Man, the green illumination painted the prince’s features into a devilish cast.   
  
Immediately the face plate glided shut with a faint hiss and whine of precision parts before clicking secured, as gloved fists clenched at his sides.   
  
“All right, princess, bring it on!”   
  
Repulsors flared brilliantly as he lifted off of the ground in a sudden burst, mechanics and the intricate suit a part of Iron Man… an affinity only Tony Stark could have. Engineering brilliance made precarious and complex functions flow with a dancer’s grace.   
  
Gloriously the pair clashed and fought in the air, bursting from the sky to the ground: metal of daggers clanged against the blackened alloy, and repulsors and sorcerous fire met in brilliant flaring explosions as the pair battled in the night. Clint could only observe: keeping an eye to make sure Tony didn’t relapse or come anywhere near death again, but he couldn’t help but realize the eerie grace the pair battle in.   
  
It was the dance of two brilliant minds; thought beyond what the common soldier would expect. Despite Stark’s general approach of fighting and improvising on the spot in a head on rush, he took more of a dash and dart method to match the Trickster’s. The mad genius flitted through trees and playground equipment with daring aerial acrobatics and repulsor enhanced bursts of speed, where Loki was as fleeting and fickle as a shadow that danced behind a fluttering flame. But it was so much more than that. His magic made him a frustratingly challenging opponent to appear and disappear, split into illusions at one point. And also, he could fight. Truly, and surprisingly, the sorcerer showed the battle skills worthy of a Prince of Asgard… the royal son of a warrior race.   
  
Which was a completely higher level than any of them had seen during the entire invasion. As the two men practically tore each other apart with delight and devilry, enough tricks between them both to confuse even Clint now and then, he came to a realization.   
  
Loki hadn’t even TRIED, before. And now… this seemed hardly a bloodthirsty battle, but far beyond what they had seen of him before. What the sorcerer could truly be capable of when desperate… it was a frightening notion to contemplate.   
  
Tony was having the time of his life! He was used to fighting large, strong, but ultimately dense(compared to his intellect) opponents. Now, he had a voraciously cunning adversary: powerful, nimble and utterly unpredictable. Every parry, every twist and turn, Tony Stark pit everything he could muster against Loki, and he found he was loving every thrilling minute of it.   
  
The God of Mischief was certainly putting his new suit through its paces, and the mortal distinctly felt his fragility, knew that he was keeping on par with fists of metal and technology against a man armed with merely a knife or two. Of course, by the grin that graced the god’s face, the mutual enjoyment was obvious. Their banter sparred with words just as much as they were physically.   
  
“Hey, Twinkletoes, anyone else tell you that you’re a great dancer?” Tony grunted as he deflected a fiery ball of magic with a well angled blast of his repulsor on his left hand. He twisted around instantly to fire to his right where he captured the reappearing sorcerer with a small burst to the chest that knocked him back a few yards into a low crouch. “You take my lead pretty well, Princess.”   
  
“A Prince Charming you are not, mortal.” The ensuing energy burst knocked Tony back and earned a yelp from the inventor as the mortal found himself careening back first into a tree before he sent several bursts to alter his velocity and direction. Like a predator closing in on his prey, Loki flew in a darting lunge towards Tony with the dagger’s blade gleaming brightly in the mingled light of magic and technology. “I am afraid your hour is nearly up!”   
  
Flipping in a twisting somersault, Tony darted forward to catch the fluttering green cape in a nimble torque. With a vicious yank, the metal clad Avenger pulled Loki near before the tall figure abruptly turned and shifted his balance with precision, suddenly sending the black suited man crashing into the ground in a fluttering dusty rise of grass and dirt.   
  
The impact expelled a cough of a grunt as he landed heavily upon his back… weighted profoundly by the lanky sorcerer, Tony found himself momentarily disoriented. His instincts were well honed enough that Tony found himself with his hand tucked up under the metal on Loki’s torso, nothing but bare leather protected vital organs from the warming charging repulsor that waited to fire a less playful blast. That, of course, was entirely moot, due to the fact that Loki had his knife wedged between layers of the thinner parts of his suit at his neck. Cold metal pricked his skin in a deadly kiss.   
  
A Mexican standoff; but neither seemed annoyed. No. Both were panting, exhilarated and Tony’s hidden grin was mirrored by Loki’s more visible one. The engineer hadn’t felt that alive in a long time, and so he thrilled at the fun he was experiencing, even if he’s vulnerably flat on his back with Loki crouched like a predator, straddled over him in a cage of legs.

His good mirth tapered when a vague shout, Clint’s voice, rang out before a tall lumbering shadow fell over Iron Man, and  he squirmed slightly under the god to peer to the form that blotted out the park light overhead. Green cloth and metal gleamed, vague ambient illumination caught on a grisly metal death mask that looked like an archaic medieval torture chamber toy.   
  
“Oh, pilfering from Loki’s closet to cosplay as the Man in the Iron Mask?” Tony quipped, however, he felt a subtle tension in the god perched above him, even through the armor. The barest hint of annoyance threatened to mar Loki’s visible amusement. “Hey, Bambi, you really do accessorize in green, even your minions! Where’d you dig THIS mook up from?”   
  
“Dr. Doom is minion to no man… not even the gods are worthy enough to master such greatness. You must be the infamously irreverent Iron Man. Dr. Doom has been eagerly awaiting to meet this particular Avenger.” The deep voice boomed, distorted somewhat in a hollow metallic reverberation from the mask. Tony squinted up from behind the display of his HUD to the addled indecisive readings of the new form above him before he bade the face plate to open so he could take a better look to the rather odd fellow.   
  
“Really? He has? Can’t wait to meet him if he’s such a fan. Maybe I’ll even autograph his arrest slip because I’m such a nice guy. So… where is he?” Tony inquired, obviously casting his gaze to peer boredly past Loki and the towering figure that failed to intimidate him. He grimaced, seeing explosions and shouts not too far off… obviously Hawkeye and Captain tackled more of those nasty bots.   
  
“Of whom do you inquire?” The metallic and green draped figure looked somewhat jarred from his arrogant demeanor by Tony’s question.   
  
“Dr. Doom, duh.” A twitch from the form planted on Tony drew his eyes up to the God of Chaos. Said god’s green orbs were gleaming, lips twitched as he attempted his damned best to conceal his mirth despite himself.   
  
“You are speaking to Dr. Doom.” The Latverian remarked in an irritated roll of his accented voice, obviously showing the air of one who felt himself saddled with conversing with a dullard.   
  
“Am I? As far as I know, I’m talking to Loki the God of Wild Unicorns and the Knight Who ‘Saw-It-In-The-Window-And-Just-Couldn’t-Resist-It.’ Seriously, buddy, where’s the new Villain in town?” A slight twitch of the blade’s tip bit Tony’s throat as he felt a subtle quirk in Loki’s hold, and the God of chaos bowed his head to better shield his features in shadows.   
  
“How dare you insult the greatest mind of our time...”   
  
“...I haven’t insulted myself...”   
  
“...with your inane observations? You speak to none other than Dr. Victor Von Doom!”   
  
“Oh really? You?” Tony barked a hearty laugh before he waved his free gloved hand as if to banish a fluttering butterfly of humor. “Oh that’s RICH! You’re not really speaking of yourself in third person, are you? And I’m supposed to take YOU seriously?”   
  
“For such mocking arrogance you will be doomed, pathetic peasant.” Doom closed in, metal encased steps heavy and hollow. Tony merely leveled the man a flat look. It’s not a suit like Tony’s…couldn’t POSSIBLY be.    
  
The insults he traded were more than just taunts, he was assessing the movement of the armor, the sounds, the flexibility, and responsivity. It sounded more like a clunky suit of archaic armor, all clink. It didn’t even FEEL that well put together. Though, the boot that landed upon his freed hand to entrap it certainly felt heavy enough.   
  
“Doomed, huh? Is that anything like me being ‘Lokied’... whoah! Hands off, buddy!” Amusement vanished as the powermonger reached down to grip the front of his armor over his reactor, and alarm began to canter Tony’s heart into a swifter pace as he felt the man emitting heat… weakening the metal protecting the treasure nestled into his chest. He squirmed with hissed curses, but with a solid Asgardian holding him down, and a larger metal monstrosity of a man pinning his arm down while trying to break his carapace, it was swiftly becoming an ineffectual situation. 

Jarvis’ unnervingly calm voice seemed to hold an edge of tension as it murmured warnings about structural integrity into his ear, and he could feel the heat increase, practically cooking him under the metal. Panic began to settle in and he was seeing nothing behind eyes squeezed tight, teeth clenched against sounds of weakness that fought to tear from his throat.   
  
Suddenly, a growled sound of enraged surprise greeted his ears and the heat receded to allow his breathing to return and the agony to ebb.   
  
“Loki! How dare you-”   
  
“How dare YOU, Doom. You should know better than to touch my property.”   
  
Weight began to lift from Tony’s body, and as the engineer pried his eyes open, he stared to Loki who gripped the metallic hand of the other villain. It had been so easy for Tony to forget that Loki was Aesir. No. More than that. And while not at the strength of Thor, he certainly was leaps and bounds beyond mere human force, and it was apparent to Tony as the God of Chaos stood to his full height, holding the gauntlet wrist firmly and drew Doom from Tony with the ease of dragging a rag doll. But… it was those words, an ironic mirror to ones Tony himself had said to Thor. He didn’t know if he should have been alarmed, relieved, or annoyed.   
  
“Hey! What the hell do you mean-”   
  
“Your, property?” Doom inquired with a narrowed tone as suspicion flavored the rough hollow basso voice. The God of Fire merely lifted his head with an aloof sniff, a superior aristocratic air adorned his words and expression. Doom had been taken by surprise enough to step off of Iron Man’s arm, much to the engineer’s relief.   
  
“My prey, my property, Doom. What trinkets or treasures which can be gained from the mortal will be mine alone. As we have an unfinished fight, he is my adversary by right. Or… do you truly wish to incur my wrath?”   
  
Hardly one to let such a golden chance to escape him, Tony closed his face plate and fired all of his repulsors, shooting bodily from between their legs in a swift skid along the ground. As an arrow flew past to explode in a brilliant flaring burst of dazzling phosphorous that disoriented the pair of villains, metal hummed with a singing metallic ring that Tony only needed to hear to recognize. Tony Stark loved that familiar sound of vibranium. His delight was shattered as he heard a sickening shearing crunch and sounds of metal rending before something landed with a thump, rolling to stop beside Iron Man.   
  
He found himself jolted by staring into the metal face mask of Doom. Attached to a head. That wasn’t attached to anything else. The inventor’s skin crawled beneath his suit as he snapped his attention to the body that fell moments later.   
  
Captain America cut the man’s head off. He decapitated him.   
  
Captain America De-CAP-itated the man.   
  
If he wasn’t in shock from the moral nightmare he’d just witnessed from Mr. Honest Purity, his sense of humor would have had a field day on the irony.

“Stark!” The voice of the Captain rang in his ears through the suit’s audio system as he dropped his gaze with growing horror to the head lying before him. He was dimly aware of booted feet that approached with slow deliberate steps before the inventor, and as they stopped just in his vision, it snapped him out of his daze. With a heavy stagger, Tony pulled himself to his feet, adrenaline racing through his body as he stared to Loki. The Aesir warlord merely stooped to pick up the head… only to peer to it with a disgusted frown as Loki studied the eerie locked visage of the mask. And he spoke to it in a moment of Hamlet perfection.   
  
“Lowly fool. I am NOT pleased with you.” The sorcerer settled his gaze to Tony before he shared a wicked grin as he dropped Doom’s head into the Avenger’s lap. “A gift… for you.” So grand a gesture, however, was repaid by Loki suddenly being blown back, thrown clear through a tree by a double repulsor blast that flared brilliantly, sending the god tumbling amidst bark, leaves, and branches. With an audible thwang, an arrow slammed into the ground where Loki had been.   
  
Iron Man followed swiftly in pursuit where he grabbed Loki by the horns to jerk the god’s head up. The normally jovial tinker growled words in a slightly shaken voice. “What the hell was THAT about, Loki?!”   
  
Gritting his teeth at the manhandling, the sorcerer shifted his gaze up slightly to stare up to the masked face of the mortal before a sneer curled his lips. “I tire of our games. Enjoy your little victory… for now, Iron Man.” A flaring flash of green ethereal light shimmered, illuminated and engulfed Loki before he vanished to leave Tony holding the helmet as a war prize.   
  
“Tony… hey, Tony!” Came Clint’s words as he jogged to catch up. The blond peered around warily, cautiously, but it seemed that things were finally calmed down. For the time being. His concern, however, fell upon his comrade. “Look man, I should have warned you about Doom… he’s kind of...”   
  
“A dick.”   
  
“Yeah… I know….”   
  
“And dead.” Tony intoned grimly only to receive a bemused look from Clint who meandered to the head. With a creak of leather, the archer stooped and picked it up casually to peer where the neck had been shorn.   
  
“Hate to burst your bubble, Tin Man, but it’s just a dud. Not the first time. We’re getting good at defusing the bodies before they blow.” He jerked his thumb to Captain America who knelt hunkered over the body where the American icon seemed to be wrist deep in wires.   
  
Snagging the head from Clint’s hands, Tony peered to the neck… and metal and wires greeted him. A robot. Suddenly, he felt the horror and ire washed out from him to be replaced by an unknown inkling of emotion. Any one else would have labeled it as guilt.   
  
As he hefted the head slightly in one hand and the helmet in the other, Tony considered his latest souvenirs with deep thought before he winced, feeling a painful sting in his chest. Even with the armor, the slight flinch caught the astute assassin’s eye and instantly concern seemed to overtake the younger Avenger.   
  
“Hey, Tony… you ok? Are you having a heart attack? Not gonna die on me, old man, are ya?”   
  
Equal parts touched and annoyed, Tony snorted as he nudged open his visor to peer to those concerned blue eyes.   
  
“Nah… it’s not that. Just, Dr. Demento tried to heat his way through my armor and I think I might have gotten a little burned. Nothing big.” A deep breath escaped him before he glanced to the mess that had been made of the park. A lonely charred plastic pony with it’s head blown off creaked eerily on it’s large spring added to the grisly Mise en Scene. “Damn, we made a mess.”   
  
“Look, Tony… we’ve got this here. Just go ahead and go back to the tower. Cap and I will stop by later to chew you out.”   
  
“Can that wait until tomorrow? Because… y’know… I’m tired… and I want to get into this guy’s head. LITERALLY.” Tony pointed to the less morbid remains in his hands. Clint snorted a breath as he shook his head.   
  
“Lunch. It’s a date. You’re buying.”   
  
“Yeah, wear your best dress.” Tony remarked as he closed his faceplate before he turned his attention to the red, white, and blue clad warrior. He called out to their team leader and granted a cocky salute with the horned helm in his other hand. “Nice throw back there, Cap! See you tomorrow!”   
  
Without leaving room for response, he took to the air and streaked towards the brilliant edifice that towered into the sky with the stylized A that glowed like a beacon in the night.   
  
~~~   
  
When Tony strode his way through the ‘car wash’ to strip his armor off, he dropped the two prizes off on the bar before he shuffled to his bedroom. He could feel every aching muscle, every sore joint and jarred bone. He was seriously out of peak shape after not fighting for so long, but even worse: his chest hurt like HELL! Thank goodness Doom sought to melt the areas around his chest and not target the reactor. There’s nothing like having a searing hot metal object nestled amidst his organs.   
  
He needed a bath. And a nap. Maybe a good drink.   
  
Why not all three at once?   
  
What he received, however, once he stepped within his room, was to be plucked from the ground as if he weighed nothing and thrown to land upon his bed with a bounce.   
  
“Fuck, ow… what the… Loki!” The inventor yelped as the God of Madness slunk swiftly to kneel crouched over the mortal with knees and hands bracketing the smaller male’s body in an unsettling intimate closeness. Almost as unsettling as that brilliant feverish gleam in those green eyes locked upon Tony.   
  
Was he mad, the inventor wondered, about that fight earlier? Well, maybe shooting Loki through a tree WAS a bit of a chump move, but come ON! He thought he’d just had a human head dropped in his lap like the deity was some kind of giant cat. Horrifyingly gross was the flavor of that moment.   
  
Come to think of it, Loki WAS looking rather… irate. Those sharp features bore a grim ire as the god pursed his lips and turned his movements sharp and demanding as Loki sat to weigh down Tony’s hips and grabbed his shirt. Only to have begun tearing.   
  
Tony’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammered in his chest as he heard the obscenely loud sound of cloth rending in the quiet dimly lit room. The revealed arc reactor shone brilliantly between them to cast the Aesir’s face into striking contrast. It made him… in that moment… seem so very different from humans, and raw with emotions unchecked.   
  
“Hey… hold on, Horn God! That was my good suit liner shirt… what do you think you’re...Ahn!” Suddenly, Tony’s words cut off, strangling in his throat as Loki began to peel his insulating shirt from his sweat damp skin. The brutal invasive act revealed raw burned flesh to the cool air and struck him with dizzying pain. He scrabbled to grab Loki’s arms as he bucked slightly in desperation to try to escape, to worm free. Without his suit, however, the deity was unmovable.   
  
Tony felt nervous; bare, vulnerable with his reactor exposed, something he’d been self conscious about. Hell, he even wore t-shirts when he had sex because of his night light. And moreso, he felt acutely aware of those sharp green eyes that scoured slowly over his chest, making his pulse quicken as a fine shiver slithered through his spine.   
  
“That brute… so careless… so thoughtless.” Loki murmured: the sound deep in his throat and laced with a subtle growl. Tony could only raise his eyebrows in open perplexity to the deity.   
  
It must have looked so bad. He’s REALLY glad that no one would be popping in for a visit… because it must have LOOKED questionable.   
  
Wait… what if it actually WAS?   
  
What did Thor tell him about his home realm? Post battle celebrations and the ‘vigor of war’? Holy hell!   
  
“Ah, Bambi… look, I’m not sure what youoooooh...” Sinfully cool PLEASANT hands began to trail slowly over his chest, caressed the tender reddened skin. Verily cooked flesh felt such shamefully wonderful relief at the cool touch even if the contact stung, and Loki was avoiding the obviously blistered areas.   
  
“I must make it clear to that pompous twit, I suppose, that you are MINE, Tony Stark… and that the Man of Iron is prey to none save me.” 

There. 

Those words again. Peeling his eyes open, the genius stared to the deity who carefully explored over his tormented reddened raw flesh.   
  
“What’s this ‘mine’ thing, Jafar?” He inquired… however, a sharp tension raced through his body as Loki gestured his hand, and from thin air appeared a jar. A jar that, when set upon the nightstand had something suspiciously creamy and slick. His eyebrows darted up as Tony’s hips give a sharp buck, breath caught in the mortal’s throat. Oh… oh HELL no! Immediately Tony shoved and pushed with his hands, all his strength amounting to a mere nuisance to the god perched atop him.   
  
“Well, I recall you referring to me as your ‘stuff’. If you are claiming me, then it would only be logical that I claim you.” Loki remarked coolly as he tore away methodically the remnants of the shirt and utilized the cloth to bind the squirming struggling engineer’s wrists before he secured them to the headboard to keep fidgety fingers from interfering in his activities.   
  
“C...claim me?! Now hold on there, Vixen… you barely know me… and I don’t know if I want this...” He stuttered in desperation to try to plead to Loki’s sensibilities, eyes warily locking to that container that shone ominously in the light. Like some Harry Potter tincture. 

 

But damn him, DAMN him! Maybe it’s the bonds, or being in the engineer’s own bed… or maybe because he had that sinfully perfect leather clad ass perched atop of him. Despite his better intentions, Tony could feel heat rush through his blood. A sparkling arousal gathered in his traitorous loins.   
  
“Do try to be an adult about this, Stark… and do not struggle too much, lest it become more painful than necessary. I would not wish to start over, again.”   
  
“It’s just… it’s all so sudden! And… well, I’m a hero… you’re not… people might get the wrong idea...” Tony begged. And desperately squirmed between those lean powerful legs. And was totally NOT getting aroused by the second. 

Bullshit.

He KNEW that the mad sorcerer had to feel that bulky lump under his devilish evil ass.

Loki shifted slightly to reach out to the container, grinding that leather clad bottom in a rather slow tortuous manner that drew upon the interest of Tony’s more rebellious and independently minded parts. And, no, he did NOT moan. Absolutely not. It was a deeply voiced ‘sigh’. Quavered with ‘exasperation’.    
  
“Hush, you petulant mortal… this is for the good of your health. If you close your eyes and breathe deep, it will be far easier for you. Keep still, and it will even be pleasurable, dare I say.”   
  
Tony was sure his face rivaled his favourite hue of hot rod red for his suits at this point, and he tried desperately to come up with a brilliant idea to help himself not becoming harder as blood is beginning to divert elsewhere than his brain. 

Somewhere that was beginning to strain and throb beneath the insulating suit pants.   
  
‘No.’ So simple a word… one he’d used before. And yet, he couldn’t voice it, the denial caught in his throat.

Damn this crazy god for putting him into such torment.   
  
The slick sound of fingers slipping into the jar shattered the silence… the squelch obscenely loud and lewd in Tony’s ears as Loki obviously intended to perform his inevitable plot. And there was nothing that Tony could do save close his eyes and pray he held out for as long as he could.   
  
Something cool and slippery greeted Tony’s burning chest; raw abused skin slowly  glided over by chill sinfully WONDERFUL salvation. Chocolate brown eyes blinked open slowly to peer to the shining patch of salve upon his chest and realization suddenly struck home. Oh. OH.   
  
“Wait… you’re not… you’re just….”   
  
“Rendering medical aid? Yes. Dear Stark… did you think me to intend something ELSE?”   
  
A ragged low moan escaped Tony as he stared to those long fingers that continued to slather liberally that wonderful balm over his burning chest. Sinful tingles seeped into his skin and made him squirm in delight. Good… THAT felt so VERY good. It was such an obscene kindness to him. Still, the question struck Tony with a touch of rare embarrassment.   
  
“Well, yeah. I kind of misunderstood… I thought-” A sharp hiss escaped Tony as one of those sensually sublime fingers trailed a slippery path over his exposed dusky nipple, peaking it into an eager pebble even as a violent shiver slithered through his body to end in a thoughtless roll of his hip. “Well Thor said that in Asgard, warriors… ah… fuck that feels good...so good… they have wild sex after battles off of some energy high… or something. I thought…”   
  
A faint whimper escaped Tony as the fingers withdrew briefly to grasp his jaw in order to turn his head to meet those sharp green eyes. “I would never rut with you without your consent.” Words softly spoken, deliberate and with great meaning. Strangely enough, Tony felt he could believe him. Loki wouldn’t do that to him…   
  
“...without my consent.” Tony repeated as he felt himself ease slowly while those hands continued their tending to his chest, soothing raw heated abused skin. 

“That IS what I said.” Loki remarked with mild amusement as he indulged in this slow languid care. Gradually, the sorcerer began to rub in that slippery concoction into less damaged skin. He was right, though. The stuff… whatever it is… felt utterly amazing… soothing and thrilling him at the same time. But not so much that Tony would miss one vital thing in Loki’s prior statement.   
  
“But you’re not saying you wouldn’t at all.” This remark caught Loki’s attention, and the God paused in his ministrations before he sat back slightly.Low and ragged was the moan he drew from the mortal as that pert leather clad backside pressed to a rather obvious bulge.   
  
“Is this something you wish, then, Stark?” Loki inquired in a sotto voice as he leaned forward to whisper those words against the mortal’s ear, and that action wickedly ground that firm body against Tony’s trapped length in a slow glide of deliberate friction. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as his hips, as traitors and rebels of their owner, gave a wanton buck in desperation to maintain that addictive pleasure. Loki merely lofted a raven brow archly as if to say ‘Such an interesting answer’.   
  
“Damnit, Loki… why are you tormenting me like this?!” The genius barked out, unable to dare to answer to that question because he couldn’t even lie to himself that the answer was ‘No’. What he wanted, apart from his more desperate wants at the moment, was to know WHY. How was Loki messing with his mind and body so easily?   
  
The deity breathed a low laugh, shaking his head slowly as he proceeded to slather the cooling ointment on the remainder of the reddened skin with sensual smooth motions of those skilled long fingers. Despite the desperation and the strength in that tight compact little form of the mortal, those bucks could not so much as even nudge the God an inch. Loki did, however, find amusement in the apparent squeaks of the bed from the inventor’s desperate quirks and jerks. Motions that became a more lewd writhing, the rustle of squirming legs on the plush coverlet an erotic underscore to Tony’s desperation.   
  
“Oh, I would simply love to say that I delight in making you squirm.” A sensual velvety chuckle escaped the God of Chaos as he finally ground his hips against Tony; the first time with intention for that purpose. As the mortal’s lips parted in a voiceless quavered gasp, those brown eyes blown wide and dark, he could see how the poor human had come to realize one thing as his own betraying body rocked back.   
  
“All of THIS torment… is entirely your own doing, Stark. I merely sought to render you aid. You, however… seem to want so much more.”   
  
It took a valiant effort, a supreme force of will upon Tony’s part to put a halt to his body when he realized precisely how he practically ground against the god like a addict on ex. Sawing tight breaths between his tightly clenched teeth, Tony growled low words as he tensed his body as stiff as a board.   
  
“This… is wrong, so very wrong.” The morally ambiguous Avenger managed the words. And it was. Or, at least, it could get him into a HELL of a lot more trouble than if the team found out he’d been letting the God bum around his tower.

His throbbing aching groin, however, voiced it’s adamant protest.

“Untie me, Loki… please… just...”   
  
“I cannot.” The deity calmly replied as he kept remarkably still and patient with the man whom nearly burst in frustration beneath him.   
  
“Why the FUCK not?!!”   
  
“Because...” Loki rose smoothly, predator eyes locked upon the trembling mortal splayed on his bed; chest bared and illuminated wetly in the glow of the reactor. With the snug black material of his under suit pants, Tony’s arousal was a lewdly evident mountain against the firm lines of his body. “...you cannot touch the ointment for the next thirty minutes, nor disturb it.” The god’s gaze lingered, however, upon those frustrated brown eyes. Eyes that glared, begged, needed before him.   
  
So very beautiful a sight. And yet… even for one such as he, Loki simply could not deny the gaze of those puppyish eyes. Especially when accompanied by a choked moan of frustration.   
  
“A half hour?! Oh...fuck this...”   
  
A soft sigh exhaled from the aristocratic deity before he slipped closer once more to the side of the bed as his gaze fell to the pill bottles on the bedside table. As well as a tube. Deft fingers plucked up the last object, keen eyes narrowed to read the print in the reactor’s light. With a contemplative look, the devious trickster dropped his gaze to the man who tugged desperately on the bonds tethered to the headboard.   
  
It was the point when Tony nearly rolled himself over that Loki darted in swiftly to catch Tony’s hip to pull him back down in order to prevent the mortal from upsetting the salve.   
  
“Very well, I will help you.”   
  
“Oh thank GOD… I’m about to go nu-what the HELL are you DOING?!” Tony began to yelp as Loki shamelessly plucked the band on the snug pants and underwear.  As he tugged them open, Tony was able to see straight down to his reddened flushed penis that peeked from the depths of his pants. The damned thing twitched in greeting to the god that seemed to be offering it attention.   
  
“Assisting you in your time of need.” Loki remarked flatly as he flicked the lid off of the tube of prescribed gel. A sharp gasped escaped the smaller male as a measured amount was squirted INTO the held open pants in a cold surprise to glaze that turgid length that strained for freedom. Sadistic prankster that he was, Loki casually released the waist bands with a loud SNAP that evoked a yelp from the engineer.   
  
“Damnit Loki!!!” Tony squirmed in earnest. Now, not merely was his length being trapped again, but it was squishy, warming in the gel and… sweet mercy, it’s so very WRONG. The Mad God was trying to drive him out of his mind. And he was probably going to leave the human, most likely, to laugh over Tony’s misfortune.   
  
Therefore, Tony found it a complete and utter surprise when Loki once more climbed back over him like a large leather bound cat. A mindful cat: supporting himself easily away from Tony’s chest in order to protecting the injured area. How kind. The he nestled one of his leather clad thighs between Tony’s legs, SNUGLY against his goopy groin between twitching legs before he held patiently still.   
  
“Loki… what...”   
  
“Do what you need, Tony...” The god interrupted smoothly as he turned his head to stare out of the tinted window to the night lit city outside when the engineer seemed close to protest. “...I will not judge.” The deity stated calmly, almost placidly as if he detached himself from any potential of embarrassment or irritation.   
  
But… it was those words… those four words. ‘I will not judge’. And, Tony realized with a start. He hadn’t. Not since the very beginning. Oh, Loki commented aplenty, but judged? No.   
  
Slowly, hesitantly, he rolled his hips half heartedly, awashed in humiliation at this base act. Oh, but that friction felt so very marvelous, and with the slickness entrapped about his throbbing length, it was such a strange, such a thrilling… hell... NAUGHTY sensation, and the cooled gel began to warm, tingled in that most marvelous of ways.   
  
“Go on.” Loki stated calmly, patiently as if coaxing a child to eat something they were leary of… to try that second bite in bravery. Again, he ground himself against that firm leg, and Tony felt his eyes close as sheer pleasure raced through his body, coiling in euphoric thrill through his body before he rolled his hips again… and again. 

Pleasure and mind devouring need began to take over the genius: guiding him, coaxing him to slip one leg around Loki’s hip and another around the trickster’s thigh as he humped in wanton desperation like a dog. Stark panted and gasped incoherent fragments of words, squelched and slid in tight confinement within those padding snug pants even as he desecrated Loki’s leather clad thigh in shameless abandon.

  
And not one word of mocking escaped the trickster, not one word of jest. No rebuke, and no condemnation. All there was, was his delicious scent, mingled with sweat, the herbs of the balm, and the rich musk of arousal.   
  
Opening his eyes, Tony raised his gaze to the man braced above him, long trailing raven locks falling in curls, a bit sweat damped and clinging to Loki’s cheek… and he seemed to be hanging his head, eyes closed as if lost deep in concentration. As if sensing his gaze, he raised his head, meeting those warm chocolate hues with deep mystic emerald tones… Tony felt himself ensnared, enlocked.   
  
Loki smiled, a soft almost wistfully fond expression.   
  
With a loud cry, Tony bucked hard like a small bronco. Gripped to Loki with tightly trembling legs the inventor burst with brilliant pleasure, gasped with the intensity as his vision blotted out with dancing stars. His entire world felt like it exploded in the most mind shattering of ways, falling like the inky tendrils shading him like willow branches. He rode out his orgasm with shuddering grinds against Loki’s thigh, hardly aware of the god’s caught breath as he shamelessly milked out his release with erratic spurts that rocked the compact honed form.   
  
“Lo...ki...” He managed to grit out the words in a breathless gasp before he dropped  to sink into the bed with sweat that tickled trickled trails down his cheeks from his temples. He hadn’t felt like that in so long, he couldn’t remember. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings, of said deity that shifted to settle himself upon Tony’s side. A cool comforting hand brushed sweat plastered dark locks from the inventor’s face.   
  
“You bastard. You glorious bastard.” Tony managed breathlessly before he groaned softly, shifted himself to lie more comfortably, rather boneless in his bonds. A weak laugh escaped before he rolled his head sideways to peer with a languid pleased haze to the the villain cozied up beside him. 

He knew he should feel affronted.

Ashamed… at least a little indignant. 

However, all the brilliant mortal could feel, was relief and gratitude… one an emotion more familiar than the other to him. “Thank you.”   
  
A soft sound of a scoff escaped the sorcerer as he stroked through the sweat slick hair of the mortal. “Oh please, do not beleaguer me with sentiment. It was necessary, nothing more.”   
  
“I know… I mean, you could have just left me.” Tony sighed as he slanted the deity a wry look. “I mean, hell… what did it do to your godly pride to have a mortal humping your leg like a horney dog?”   
  
An irreverent snort escaped Tony Stark at the sharp look Loki settled him. Warning would be the primary message of that look… but it lacked the heat it should have. Instead, it evolved into a wickedly devious look.   
  
“Perhaps I am merely taking proper care of my pet.”   
  
Tony aimed the God of Mischief a flat look, quirking his eyebrow as his lips pursed into a boyish pout. “Yeah, no. Tony Stark…me... this guy right here… is NO one’s pet. I’m a free roaming stray, and staying happily that way.”   
  
“Oh, but what of the warnings your animal rescue group that roams your streets say to do to strays?” Loki inquired with a wickedly dangerous leer, shifting a meaningful look to Tony’s mercifully sated groin now liberally filled with thick slimy essence of lust. Tony cringed, catching himself before he squirmed before looking back to the vastly amused deity.   
  
“Oh HELL no! Uh uh… I’m getting my mojo back, I’m not going to lose anything down there, thank you. And besides… something tells me you’re all too amused with my ‘stray toys’. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be teasing me so much about them.”   
  
Loki bore the good grace to lift his shoulders in a casual noncommittal shrug before he shifted his attention to the exhausted engineer’s chest, studying the Arc reactor and the skin.   
  
“How are your burns faring? Are you experiencing much pain, still?”   
  
Lifting his head, Tony blinked, peering to his own chest when he realized that the pain had faded into a faint ache and an acute sensitivity.   
  
“Not too bad, actually… but… damn, that stuff ITCHES. It’s all dry and crusty now.”   
  
“Ah, then that would mean it has achieved the purpose it was meant for.” Without delay, the sorcerer’s nimble fingers deftly tugged the knots free on Tony who immediately sat up and began feeling over his chest. He feels gross all over… crusty on his chest, squishy in his pants, ugh.   
  
“Holy fuck, that’s a relief, but I feel like something dug out of a bilge tank.”    
  
“Yes… I have to agree. You are a rather odorous mortal at the moment.” The slight wrinkling of the pert nose added a dismayed distaste to the deity’s expression, and as he rose to walk to the door, Tony caught sight of… something straining those immaculate leather trousers. Well, WELL.   
  
Maybe Tony wasn’t the ONLY one tormented just now.

“Yo, Reindeer Games…” Pausing at the door, Loki hesitated, turning to settle Tony with a flat dead even stare, eyes subtly narrowed in intense concentration, purposefully schooling a neutral cast as he met the inventor’s gaze. Tony’s teasing jab died in his throat, considering what Loki had just DONE for him, and swiftly, he decides to change the topic on the fly.   
  
“That helmet of yours that I got… can I keep it?” This caught Loki’s attention, and the deity’s expression softened into open surprise. Tilting his head aside, Loki merely gestured casually.    
  
“For now, yes. Use it for whatever you would like.” The Prince remarked offhandedly as he gracefully stalked out of Tony’s room in order to handle his own pressing matters.

~~~

The god of Chaos came to regret those words, however, as he… or rather SHE, sat at the breakfast table, staring to the thing upon the center. “Of all the uses for such an artifact....”   
  
“Yeah?” Tony inquired as he added assorted fruit, powders, and unmentionable weedy things into a blender.   
  
“...WHY this?”   
  
Shrugging, Tony waltzed over to his new fruit bowl… stylish and shiny, Loki’s helm sitting upended on it’s curled horns and withdrew a red banana before he ambled back to begin peeling the fruit, cutting pieces to put into the blender.   
  
“I dunno. Maybe from the day I saw it, it just screamed ‘fruit’.”   
  
A scathing retort from Loren was immediately cut off by the sound of another female voice followed by a staccato Tony knew all too well. He braced himself for verbal impact.   
  
“Dear God, Tony… can you at least WARN me before you start playing Iron Man again?!” Pepper marched into the kitchen, dropping a newspaper with a soft rustle upon the counter followed by a brown package before she paused dead still, looking to the dark haired woman who sat comfortably upon the barstool with a cup of aromatic tea nestled in her pale hands. “Miss… if you need a ride home…”   
  
“She is home, Pep.” Tony remarked without thinking, earning hawk sharp surprised looks from both his CEO and recent house guest. Clearing his throat, he punched the buttons on the blender, sending it whirring loudly as a merciful distraction as he watched an assortment of objects get pulverized into a consistently green gooey beverage.   
  
Pepper strode closer to take a better look to the woman clad comfortably in a large Stark tshirt and the company marked yoga pants before she clapped her hands, realization settling in.   
  
“Oh… now I recognize you! I’m sorry about that. My grown child here, you see, never informs me of important details. My name is Pepper Potts, his CEO. You are the Angel of New York the media has been buzzing with.” Offering her hand out to the dark haired woman with a professional greeting, her smile was warm, pleasant, and a more personable greeting.   
  
Peering to the outstretched hand, Loren seemed to obviously debate accepting it, trust apparently a difficult issue for her to grasp, however, a pleasant amiable smile curved her lips as she accepted the offered hand, shaking it in return. “I am called Loren Kirk.”    
  
“Miss Kirk...”   
  
“Loren...”   
  
“Loren, I cannot tell you how much your project has been aiding our PR for our company. You may have little interest in our company… but you have been keeping Tony in a positive public presence. You don’t know how much of a weight that lifts off my shoulders.” The business woman smiled wryly, and by the confiding grin shared by the other woman, they both were sharing a private silent joke over how difficult Tony was to manage.   
  
As Tony approached with a glass filled with a thick frothy concoction resembling swamp muck, he sipped it before he peered between his CEO and Loren, eyebrows raised and still as if waiting for… something.   
  
“So, you are here rather early… have you been getting here early to wake Tony and make certain he is fed?” Pepper inquired, smirking slightly as Tony choked on a sip.   
  
“Oh, well… Tony has been a sweet generous soul and allowed me to stay here.” Loren’s smile faltered somewhat as her eyes drop to the mug of tea held between her hands.   
  
“Loren has been helping out around here a lot, Pep. It’s like having my own personal chef!”   
  
The flat look he received from both women seem to cow the genius somewhat. He furrowed his eyebrows, giving Pepper those large soulful brown puppy dog eyes he knew were such an effective weapon to getting what he wanted.   
  
“She’s a starving artist… and she needs a SAFE place to be. Besides...” He shrugged, sipping his drink to mumble low to mask his words. “...she’s fun to have here.”   
  
A strawberry blond eyebrow jumped with sharp wryness as Pepper eyed Tony critically. “A rebound… already?”   
  
The hero winced at the accusing tone coming from Pepper, however, he choked violently upon his drink as Loren spoke with casual aplomb.   
  
“Oh, on the contrary. He has been rather adamant about pleasuring himself alone behind the sanctuary of his locked bedroom door, so I feel my virtue is quite safe.” A wicked devilish smile drew upon ruby lips as she slowly sipped her tea, amused by the rather shocked look on the CEO’s face and the appalled embarrassment on her gracious host.   
  
Poor Pepper, however, was caught with a rather bizarre mental image she’d rather do without. She needed something to distract herself… and so she reached for a tangerine before her hand froze. The CEO of Stark Industries stared to the fruit ‘bowl’. That was new. And vaguely familiar. With a squint at first to the gold, she suddenly gasped, pointing.   
  
“Tony! Is that… don’t tell me that’s… ”   
  
“Rudolph’s Antlers? You bet!” He grinned, latching onto the distraction with a dazzling smug grin as he sipped his bitter concoction with relative ease.   
  
Pepper merely covered her mouth with her hand, looking somewhere between hilarity and horror. And it reminded her of something ELSE she had to bring to Tony’s attention. She pushed the box briskly to her employer, a soft pinched frown adorned her lips.   
  
“Speaking of bad taste… Tony, I can’t believe you requested THESE. Do you really think this is a good idea? Our Avengers merchandising line has been doing very, very well, seeding the charity funds very efficiently. Doing a stunt like this might upset our consumer base.”   
  
Like a kid at Christmas, Tony eagerly collected the box and tugged it open with a boyish grin, and Loren leaned closer at the counter, peering over with avid curiosity. Only to come face to face with… Loki. A very small Loki. Bright green eyes blink comically at the sight.   
  
“Oh, come on, Pep! I’ve been on the internet, I know! Besides, everyone knows that a good action toy set always has the bad guy. And who knows, when the bad guys turn good, the originals always skyrocket in value. Plus, he has that fan following… remember the Stern video?” Plucking up the foot tall figurine, Tony shrewdly squinted, nodding to himself as he peered to the prototype with a grand grin and rustled through the assortment of accessories before he looked up to Loren.   
  
“You will all KNEEL before me!” The engineer imitated Loki’s voice as he wriggled the toy before the woman, and she buried her face into her hand… making a somewhat broken exasperated laugh.   
  
Pepper simply shook her head at the child of a man. He honestly didn't act his age. But she did see that playful interaction between Tony and Loren, an odd ease and comfort. An unspoken, possibly unknown trust. And she knew after his countless betrayals, trust was often avoided. She collected the figurine before eyeing it critically. “I have the contract, but… Tony, do you REALLY think you can talk Loki into signing an agreement to make merchandise of himself?”   
  
“Yes.” Both Tony and Pepper’s attention turned to Loren who sat up, looking smoothly between the two before she reached out to collect the figurine, eyeing it critically while an elegant finger poked the detailed form with a growing smile. “What god could possibly resist idols made in their image?”   
  
Exhaling a breath, Tony turned his attention to Pepper as he gestured to Loren. “She’s got a point. Pep. And, who knows… maybe it might loosen him up a bit. After all, he HAS been taming down his mayhem...”   
  
Pepper’s eagle grim glare faltered Tony only momentarily. “...well, there’s been less deaths. Face it, most of what he’s been doing lately have been pranks.”   
  
“What about last night, Tony? He almost killed you!”   
  
Blinking, Tony shook his head as he waved his hands to banish the notion. “Bullshit. That was Dr. Dick. Loki just wanted a good even fight. That jackass had to come in and play robot warlord.”   
  
“Tony…” Pepper sighed in exasperation as she moved to sit down at the counter, rolling the tangerine between her fingers before she delicately peeled the skin free. “...I’m just worried about you, ok? You just had heart surgery about a month ago. You SHOULD be taking it easy.”   
  
“I’m fine Pep. I feel safe, really I do. It’s like I have a guardian Angel watching out for me.” Tony remarked absently as he plucked out a bag of blueberries, nibbling on a piece absently before he tossed one to Loren who caught it with thoughtless ease in her mouth, nibbling upon the dried fruit piece before she murmured amiably.    
  
“Perhaps you do.”   
  
“See Pep… it’s not so bad! But, yeah… you’re right! I could totally go on Vacation… and not even Monaco. Just remember it was your idea to give me the time o-… Pep?” Stumbling in his rambling, Tony stared to his CEO who was looking decidedly pale, wary… perhaps even frightened. A sharp look was shifted to Loren who rose to move into the kitchen to collect a glass of water and a damp cloth.   
  
“You… I’ve finally figured out who you are...” The CEO stated as she reached out to cling to Tony, yet stared to the raven haired woman in the kitchen with an avid attentiveness. Loren tensed before she turned to peer back to the cunning, yet… unfortunate woman. “... Tony’s bird.”   
  
Silence fell between the three before he shattered the tense emptiness of sound with a bark of a laugh as he hugged Pepper’s shoulder. “C’mon… what makes you think that?”   
  
“You never have both of them in one place, and the more you have been seen with one, the less of the other. That ease I find between you… you speak to her as you did your bird, and how you eat your snacks with her. Plus… there IS no history of a Loren Kirk… she doesn’t EXIST.”   
  
Tony fell utterly silent, still with a look of ‘caught’ Pepper knew all too well… however, she straightened slightly as a glass of water was gently placed calmly before her. Following the water up the hand to the pleasantly unbothered face of the enigmatic woman, Pepper silently considered something deeply before speaking. “Are you… a Mutant?”   
  
Thick silence encapsulated the kitchen before Loren spoke softly. “I have been… always different from others. I have been hated and reviled, feared for my abilities. Would you, also?”   
  
Pepper held up her hands as she shook her head. “No… NO! God no… I actually feel that mutants should deserve equal rights. I just need to know if TONY is hiding one under his wing. Especially with the mandatory registration laws beginning to form.”   
  
Tony was still nursing a blank look, however, as Loren slapped him lightly across the back of the neck with the towel, he gave a slight jump. “What… oh… yeah. Sorry Pep.” He endeared her with a sheepish grin as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Loren helps me, Pep. A LOT. You know, I don’t get PTSD when she’s around, so that’s a pretty cool power… gotta be one. But, yeah… I, well, see I couldn’t tell anyone because I was worried about SHIELD or that asshole Ross scooping her away...”   
  
Drinking the water slowly, the CEO closed her eyes as she nursed a worn weary look before her expression softened. “You can tell me, Tony. You can TRUST me. Because there ARE things I can do. For example… Loren… you are doing work for Tony Stark and Stark Industries: namely, that memorial sculpture on our property, yes?”   
  
Slowly, Loren dipped her head in a nod, shrewdly observing the woman who took unexpected charge. She knew then why Tony appointed this Pepper Potts to be his task master. 

“Yes.”  


“So then, have you worked out any contractual agreement? Received pay?”   
  
“None at all… I have been rendering service of my own volition.”   
  
The infamously clever Ms. Potts offered an almost frightening smile… the smile that many would know that she’s maneuvered them into a corner. “So, that means that… by all reason, you SHOULD be offered an employee contract immediately to satisfy labor laws as well as to include you permanently within Stark Enterprises for the consistency of future projects we would, furthermore, require your expertise. You will, of course, be provided all of the benefits… medical, financial, and LEGAL that are part of the employee package.”   
  
In an act of impulse, Tony vaulted himself up to sit upon the counter to reach over the bar to grasp his CEO’s hand with a dazzling smile.   
  
“Pep, you’re the greatest! I knew there was a reason I made you my CEO.”   
  
“Your job requirements will include planning, procurement, crafting, and assessment of art, personal management of Tony Stark as it is obvious that you are the current anomaly actually getting him to his appointments on time...”   
  
“...don’t forget personal Chef...”   
  
Pepper swat him upside the head with her Stark Pad she procured from her bag in the process of updating contractual information.   
  
“Ow! Okay, culinary engineer?”   
  
As Loren followed up with a swipe upside the back of Tony’s head, the dark haired woman bore a deeply cautious look.   
  
“Why are you offering me this? Do you trust me?”   
  
“I trust you to keep HIM in order.”   
  
“Ouch Pep, low blow.”   
  
Loren could not help but smile… not a wiley wicked look, but a genuine soft amusement.   
  
“Such an offer would be foolish to decline.”

~~~

Any worries Tony may have had with Pepper and Loren were swiftly laid to rest. Had he never known that his new ‘mutant’ houseguest wasn’t, in fact, an ancient deity of Genderbending Mischief and Sexy Leather, he would have sworn the pair were sisters.   
  
The first sign of concern, in fact, that the two were going to gang up on him, began when Pepper insisted on taking Loren out for a bout of a shopping spree. Apparently the ‘starving artist/rennie’ look wasn’t proper for a metropolitan rising star and new Stark Industries employee. Of course, Tony had to tag along because SOMEONE had to carry the bags, but despite his good natured complaints and remarks, he truly didn’t mind. Pepper had another intelligent female with a common interest in keeping Tony out of trouble and Loren obviously was relishing the pampering.   
  
Cinderella in a nutshell.

Except that under this Cinderella was a Maleficent that’d be murder to tango with should she be pushed too far. Well, story crossover, but it fit.   
  
He’d also solidified his sweet tooth hypothesis that Loren… or Loki… had an almost passionate love of sweets. Well, higher quality than circus peanuts and skittles. Tony felt a bit envious of the god’s metabolism, because he had to watch EVERYTHING he ate, whereas Loki… and Loren… have appetites that, while not on the par of Thor, were frighteningly impressive.   
  
It hadn’t been all that hard to request time off for a vacation from his trusty CEO, especially considering WHERE he decided to take Loren.   
  
Her first true outing… and his, for that matter, since his return to the Tower, and he was rather excited, buzzing with energy. And the best part… he had Loki guessing trying to decide where they were going, and the eccentric Billionaire was enjoying his game.   
  


“Where are we going, Stark?” That same old question, the waltz Tony had been avoiding all along.   
  
“I told you, Lo, it’s a surprise! Let’s just say that it’s a place that my father invested in and helped with, and I kept things up on my end over the years. My old man was a jerk, but he was business savvy, and it’s paid off, in a big way.” Tony remarked as he nibbled on some blueberries, flicking the occasional fruit for the woman across from him to catch. However, as his phone chirped with the sound of a hawk’s cry, he plucked the device out of his pocket.   
  
“So… it is a business trip.” Loren remarked, sounding roundly nonplussed as she flipped a page in the book nestled in her lap as Tony tapped the device on with a note of amusement in his voice.   
  
“‘Sup chicken butt?”

“Where the HELL are you, Tony?!”   
  
He fell silent, wincing as he held the phone from his ear briefly before he remarked glibly.   
  
“On my private jet… left a note on the fridge telling you guys that I’m going on vacation...”   
  
“Apparently you forgot our important MEETING at lunch today?”   
  
With lips slightly parted in absence of answer, he earned a wry smirk from the woman across from him.   
  
“Ooooh, right, that.”   
  
“Yeah, THAT! Tony...”   
  
“Hey, I’m fine… I feel fresh as a daisy, Clint!”   
  
“And your burns?”   
  
Blinking in surprise, the genius came to an astounding realization before he pat his chest down, rather surprised that aside from some sensitivity, he felt as good as new. A look of wonder raised to the disguised god reading a book on culinary methods.   
  
“I’m actually doing pretty good. I think my burns just seemed worse at the time. Tell you what… I’ll make sure I take it easy, Loren’s doing such a good job taking care of me...”   
  
“Wait, LOREN?! Where did-”   
  
“...and I promise that I’ll bring you and Cap back some souvenirs. So, glad we had this chat, and we’ll talk again when I get back. Ok? Bye!” Turning off the phone, Tony exhaled a ragged sigh as he wriggled in the plush comfortable seat.   
  
“Damn nosey nannies.”   
  
“They merely worry over you. You are blessed with the good fortune to have so many that care for you, and the bad fortune for events to happen to concern them so.” Loren remarked blithely as she thumbed through the book with an idle bored look.   
  
As the pilot announced the approach to their destination, Loren began to have a decidedly dubious look as the Avenger held something up between them.   
  
“By the Norns, I do not need an interactive explanation of what ‘Mile High Club’ means… the verbal sufficed enough.”   
  
“Oh no...” Tony Stark grinned like the devil himself as he closed in on Loren with the black silk blindfold. “...this is gonna be SO much better.”

~~~

Loren was on edge the entire time that blindfold was on… and Tony made certain to keep a hand comfortingly on her. It was more than insecurity… it’s the kind of bone deep tension laced with unavoidable fear that came with unpleasant familiarity, and Tony immediately felt minglings of guilt and anger… both surprising reactions he would never have expected.

  
Mercifully, the car ride was brief and pleasant, and as they approached at dusk… he ushered her carefully, guiding her amidst the bustles of people before they cleared away.    
  
It irritated him that he had to stand on the tips of his toes, had to coax the taller woman to stoop down slightly to fight with the knot, however, when the blindfold slipped away, and those emerald eyes shifted from a haunted wariness, to surprise… to unabashed wonder… he grinned as he stepped back from her, arms held wide.   
  
“Welcome to Disney World, where magic lives and dreams come true.”   
  
And perfectly timed, perfectly on cue, fireworks sang as they raced up to light the sky behind the illuminated palace that towered brilliantly into the night behind the genius much akin to his Jericho display, and all around them were characters… people dressed as those figments of folklore in those movies, and for once the Silvertongue was rendered speechless, held in awe.   
  
Tony hesitated, arms held wide, feeling decidedly awkward because he hoped, DESPERATELY prayed, that the sorcerer wasn’t going to tear him apart by being somehow affronted by the mortal made magic.   
  
Instead, he was swept up into an unexpected bone crushing hug, face pressed liberally into Loren’s bosom as she whirled him around with the delight of a child within. As her eyes scanning that magnificent place of wonderment and fun, a light laughter escaped the ruby lips of the dark haired woman.   
  
For once, Tony didn’t mind that he was either being slowly being smothered, or had his sneakered feet dangling from the ground. He’d made a god very, very happy… and Tony knew that was something near impossible to achieve.   
  
As he’s set down, he grinned and raised his attention to the light spectacle that soared into the sky with the music filtered around the park. Grinning as his hands tucked into his pockets, the inventor peered up to Loren’s face, upturned and capturing the reflections of the brilliant coloured lights that danced like fleeting fairies in the sky.   
  
“I have never seen such a place in all my years.” Loren murmured in a soft breathless wonder.   
  
“Oh, well… wait until tomorrow. It’s really going to be a wild place. We have a little over a week, though, so we can enjoy everything in stride. I’ll show you Epcot tomorrow.” Tony hummed softly to himself as he turned his head slightly to appraise the… well, gaudy fairy tale come to life decor. At that moment, there was something wonderful about it.    
  
“You know… my dad made a fortune off of inventing war toys. But he also designed a lot of things for Mr. Disney’s parks. When I found out as a teenager, I thought it was the stupidest waste of time.” Tony absently scratched his cheek, looking somewhat sheepish yet thoughtful. “Now, I’m beginning to see how cool it it to create a new world, free of the mess out there.”   
  
“A new world.” Loren repeated, murmuring softly. “One devoted to magic, fantasy, and wonder. I could live here content for the rest of eternity.”   
  
A deep breath was drawn before Tony exhaled. “Well, we’ll see about that when day breaks and you meet the hoards of kids and tourists.”

As the grand finale lit up the skies, Tony grinned merrily, slipped his arm into Loren’s as he lead her slowly along to the great bridge, the seas of departing patrons slid past them like water.

“For now, let me show you to your room. We’ll be staying here.” Tony grinned with a charming amusement as he gestured to the castle of Cinderella.   
  
Once within, and their baggage had been delivered and their pleasant helpful guide bid them good night, Loki shifted into his male form, settling to relax in supple leather breeches and the soft green tunic shirt, smiling and relaxed as those green eyes roam the room to hungrily absorb every tiny detail. At first, he questioned the discrete mouse head hidden details, but their servant(guide) had been enthusiastic to explain the tradition of having the Disney logo hidden everywhere, and to make it a game for guests to find. Then, the sharp minded sorcerer found delight in the elaborate decor.   
  
“You do know it’s all fake, right, Bambi?” Tony settled to sit beside Loki. “I’m just warning you now that most of all of this is man made or illusions of technology and art. I mean, it’s really awesome how they recreate reality… but I just want to head you off from any misunderstandings or disappointments.”   
  
“I am well aware, Stark. However, being a sorcerer, I can appreciate illusions made physically by mortal hands.”   
  
“Yeah, speaking of Illusions… I saw what you did there with my CEO.” Tony remarked as he crossed his ankles, propping his arm on the side of the couch to shrewdly peer to the amused deity beside him.   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Yeah, the whole ‘mutant’ thing… that’s one hell of a good cover story. God of Lies really is a fitting title. Hell, I could believe it.”   
  
“I did not lie.”   
  
Blinking slowly, Tony straightened slightly as he peered to the now subdued looking man beside him. Leaning forward, he peered to Loki intently.   
  
“Yeah, what part?”   
  
“I spoke the truth, Stark, when I said that I was unlike the others.”   
  
“Well, yeah, you mentioned something about people not appreciating your magic, and your brother DID say you were adopted...” Tony began to trail off his words. Granted, Thor DID confide a little more in him than the others, but that may have been from mistaking Tony’s casual indifference for genuine concern. “...uh… what was that… Your ton?”   
  
“Jotun.” The word was spoken bitterly, verily spat in unhappiness. “I was a runt among my kind, unusually small, so my sire left me to die. Odin decided to collect me along with whatever treasures he deemed worth his time to hoard.”   
  
The acid and venom in Loki’s tone honed that soft voice with a sharp edge, one obviously self cutting and further deepening unhealed wounds.   
  
“Runt? Bullshit. You’re freakishly tall!”   
  
That bitter hard edge melted almost instantly by Tony’s blunt proclamation, snapping Loki from a well traveled dark path to surprise before Loki peered to the mad little mortal beside him. He could not help but smile unbidden, reaching out to tousle that wild hair.   
  
“I enjoy how you make me feel so much bigger, my sweet little mortal.”   
  
“I’m not your fuckin’ hobbit, Gandalf. Tell you what… why don’t you go hit that spa bath in the back while I make a call to Pep and the team to keep them from ruining our fun here with worry. Last thing I need is Fury feeling he needs to kidnap me from the Magic Kingdom.”

Laughing softly, the god rose with a soft creak of leather and rustle of cloth as he strode his way to the bathroom, padding bare feet as silent as a cat. Hesitating in the doorway, one hand placed upon the frame, Loki rested his head against it as Tony began dancing his fingers upon the holographic display shone forth by his Stark Pad.

“You may not believe the words of the Liesmith… but I wish to express my gratitude.”   
  
Pausing in the midst of his manipulation of data, Tony turned slightly to peer to the god who casually leaned in the doorway for a long moment. “Now… THAT… I know isn’t a lie. I’ve got no proof, so I’ll just leave it as a hunch.”   
  
As Loki prowled out of the doorway… he sighed, turning his attention to task on hand as his eyes began to scour the information. “All right, before I start my calls… let’s see what you can dig up on this Registration Act, Jarvis.”   
  
“Certainly, Sir.”   
  
A few moments later, it took everything in his power not to break something… and he was suddenly aware of how much GLASS was surrounding him in the fairy tale suite. It’s almost cruel in the irony.   
  
His anger diffused, however, when, as he was laying in one of the two large beds, chasing elusive sleep made nimble by his mood… he heard Loki entering, smelled his fresh scent, and yet, Tony remained still, utterly unmoving.   
  
Faint whispers of movement follow before a gentle dip could be felt in the bed before a now familiar warmth and presence settled down behind Tony, an arm settling over the inventor’s waist almost protectively… or perhap possessively.   
  
Either way, Tony felt the tension begin to melt from his body, and he sank into a deep comfort with the Mad God behind him, an irrational sense of safety and contentment shielding him from the beasts of his nightmares that always lurked on the edges of his mind.   
  
There were two beds, and yet, Loki chose his. Despite himself, that pleased Tony.   
  
“Sleep. There is nothing tonight that tomorrow cannot solve.” Soft words… with unexpected wisdom, murmur against Tony’s ear, and it brought a soft smile to the engineer as he yawned softly, shifted his body to greedily press in comfortable contact to Loki.   
  
The next day, Tony had to believe he must be cursed.   
  
Oh, Disney was pleasant: top notch service, wonderful staff… Epcot was a Den of Wonders, and making an appearance at the Stark Industries Technology pavilion seemed to make a lot of people thrilled… management AND guests alike.   
  
Loki… or rather Loren, seemed to be having the time of her life, indulging in every novelty great and small she came across, and found the gastronomical delights of the international section her most enthralling, and her love of the cultural performances truly revealed the hidden part of Loki that no one on Earth could imagine. Though the outrageous laughter on the ‘Maelstrom’ ride was something Tony had to calm Loren down from. Apparently, there must be some inside jokes only the Norse Pantheon would get. He was beginning to see the traveller and adventurer Thor would tell tales of. Tony could understand why the blond god had seemed so utterly crushed to see the mad and desperate Warlord Loki of the Battle of New York.   
  
The problem arose later in the afternoon with...   
  
“Fuckin’ Doom.”   
  
Of all the times, of ALL the places for that metal clad menace to bring his ego and toys to, Disney just seemed to be the WORST place.   
  
Apparently Loki thought so, as well.   
  
Understandably, there was a LOT of panic… and even more cel phones and cameras videoing the spectacle, however, what disturbed Tony the most… was that Dr. Doom didn’t immediately go after Tony Stark. No.   
  
He has the brass cojones to go after Loren. And that’s where things became chaotic.   
  
See, the supervillain honestly thought he could get to Tony by going through his lovely ‘object of affection’... and that just put an unspeakable ruffle under his feathers. But when the mechanical ape had the NERVE to try grab her in ‘appreciation’, tearing her clothing in the process with his metal clad hand, Tony saw red.   
  
Before he could think upon it, the newest gold and red suit flew to Tony in pieces, assembling in record time before Tony could begin to take on the armored sorcerer one on one as he called for Loren to take cover.   
  
Mercifully, and surprisingly for the park… nearly no damage occurred when Doom’s summoned bots arrived because Loki appeared in a blazing glory of green fire about his leather clad form, and began destroying the machina efficiently and brutally before they even made it to the ground, so precisely dismantled, their explosive factors were expertly nulled. A glowing shimmering dome surrounded the top of the park, sending debris skittering to land harmlessly into the grassy or wooded areas surrounding, but left the attendees safe in their moments of shock: still gawking.   
  


Now, the three of them were standing upon the summit of Epcot’s iconic globe-like structure, the fight ended momentarily in a surprising shifting of powers: two to one against Victor Von Doom.   
  
“What have I told you, Doom… he is MY adversary.” Loki grit between his teeth with a seething burning glare to the megalomaniacal warlord, yet the Latverian managed to have the brass ones to look unabashed. Well, as much expression that COULD be revealed with a mask such as his.   
  
“Dr. Doom wished to catch Iron Man as a gift of good will to Loki, God of Chaos.”   
  
“Awww, look, Loki-babe, I think he’s trying to use me as a gift to court you.” Tony unhelpfully jeered to the irate deity, however, he paused at the withering look settled to him by said God of Chaos.   
  
“NO!”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
Both heads snapped to stare to the Latverian.   
  
“Cum again, rust bucket?”   
  
Loki, for his part, was at a complete and utter loss  for words.   
  
“Dr. Doom wishes to join with Loki in a beneficial union… we would be unstoppable.”   
  
Silence reigned before Tony makes an odd gagging sound in his helmet before he opened the face plate to suck in a draught of clean fresh air.   
  
“Dude… I think that bratwurst from earlier is barking at me...”   
  
Loki, however, stalked closer to the Latverian until he was veritably looming over the still tall, yet shorter man, those venom toned eyes ablaze.    
  
“Dr. Doom… I am so very… VERY inclined to say no. Leave. Leave now this sacred ground even I dare not tread danger upon… and never return lest you incur my wrath. Do otherwise, and what I shall bring upon your head will PALE what transpired in New York.”   
  
Needless to say, Doom and his bots cleared hastily… the warlord clung to some sliver of hope, apparently. Exhausted, Loki dispelled the protective shield as he dropped to sit upon the angulated curved surface. Breathing a ragged sigh of weariness and frustration, Loki  dropped his head into his hands as he muttered something low in his native tongue. With sink to sit with a metallic clink, Iron Man turned slightly stiffly in the suit to peer to the obviously stressed and frustrated deity. He settled the man beside him a sympathetic look before carefully pat Loki on the shoulder with a ring of metal on metal armor.   
  
“There, there. Could be worse. Your brother told me about some blond bimbo who’d been trying for centuries to get into his tight leather god pants. Doom’ll be gone in a blink of an eye for you!” He attempted to helpfully supply, however, as he felt a flinch under his hand, Tony panicked just a bit. Oooh, maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the brother.   
  
“Mortals are pitifully short lived.”   
  
Tony huffed a breath before he shrugged, sighing before he rose with a grunt to stand before he offered a hand to Loki to help him up. “That’s why we have to be interesting! Fireworks versus candles and all of that. C’mon, Magic Fingers, up and at ‘em.”   
  
Loki stared for a long moment to the mortal who grinned at him, offering support and generosity without a second thought. As if he neither realized, nor cared, that the difference between their life spans was… an unsettling factor in their current contentment.   
  
Tony was willing to live, to thrive in the moment, so Loki decided that he would indulge as well. He accepted the hand offered and let Tony pull him to his feet.   
  
“Yeah, we probably should hit the ground… the management’s probably having kittens by now.” Tony squinted, peering down to the people he could see staring… and he KNEW Youtube would be bursting at the seams with downloads and views. “Can you make it down on your own?” With but a bare wryly flat look to Tony, he leapt lightly and began to descend in a slow dramatic drift.   
  
“Well...” Tony remarked as his faceplate closed before leaping in a graceful dive into the air, free falling faster than the deity in daring ease.”...that answers that question.”   
  
Kicking on his repulsors after a deft flip, Tony slowed his descent before landing with a showman’s flourish with a spread of his arms to ease the tensed crowd.   
  
“All right, folks, everything’s under control! I’ve talked this Ass-Guard Prince into playing nice, so he’s under my watch.” Silence settled, breaths drawn in as the remaining crowd drew a wary step back nearly in unison as Loki drifted down smoothly to land behind Tony.   
  
Silence. Even the crickets dared not chirp.   
  
Somewhere, a phone cell rang, yet no one answered it.   
  
Exhaling a breath, Tony turned to face Loki, the face plate opening as he pointed before him.   
  
“You. Stay right here. Don’t. Move.”   
  
“What am I...your dog, Man of Iron?” The villain remarked dryly, arms crossing over his chest as he gazed down coolly to the mortal that dared to command him.   
  
“Fine then. SIT!” if he could in the metal gloves, Tony would have snapped his fingers, but the sharp commanding tone carried the effect, and the assembled people began to edge from fright and alarm towards perplexity at the unexpected interaction of the two.   
  
“You should do what Iron Man says.”   
  
“Susie, no!”   
  
Both men stopped, blinking before the metal clad hero turned to peer behind him where that small voice came from… and a little girl dressed in green and sporting a mop of wild red hair held a plastic bow, harmless pink arrow aimed to the deity.   
  
With her little cherubic face screwed into scared determination, she helds true with her unskilled aim, and her mother hovered nearby… not daring to approach in fear of inciting a violent lashing out.   
  
Slowly, with a creak of leather, the God of Madness sunk to sit with his hands held up lightly in careful surrender, his eyes honed upon the weapon.   
  
“Ah, how clever… my Lady, to know my weakness. The weapon of a pure and brave heart. I will cooperate.”   
  
This, of course, threw the crowd into greater confusion. More daring children began to edge forward… small wands and plastic swords held at the ready in a charming little army.   
  
Exhaling a breath, the hero turned to the people gathered before he held up his hands. “Really… I believe your kids have this under control, trust me.” Turning to the fiery mopped girl, he sank to kneel with a whir of servos, before pointing to the sorcerer. “Keep an eye on him, Honey… and if he so much as sneezes a thunderbolt, shoot him in his funny looking nose.”   
  
With her giggle, he rose with a smirk to the god before turning his attention to the pristinely suit clad men that began to draw closer with evident urgency before a hoard of professional polo shirt clad individuals as well as cautious yet well trained security guards. Tony could spy the trained skills and precision of military… most likely retired or out of service. Interesting thing to note and raised his consideration for the corporate empire’s hiring policy.   
  
“Just the guys I’d like to see. Can I talk to you gentlemen for a moment?” The inventor strode to speak with the executive officials in hushed tones. Loki merely continued to sit upon the pavement with the baffled cautious crowd and an increasingly bolder and braver group of children clustered closer.   
  
“You’re Loki, aren’t you.”   
  
The sorcerer shifted his attention to a younger girl that hesitantly approached, hugging a stuffed animal in bright pink and plush hues, he cocked his head aside, absently tucking a lanky lock of dark hair smoothly behind his ear.   
  
“Yes, I am, Princess.”   
  
“You made all thoth unicornth.” She continued, and as he nodded, she wrinkled her nose slightly. “Daddy theth you’re a jackath… and you should go fu-”   
  
As the God of Chaos’ eyes raised from the child to the exceedingly nervous man that arrived to swiftly cover her mouth, fear evident upon his face, however, Loki merely breathed a soft self deprecating chuckle.   
  
“Yes well, Princess, I would say he may very well be right.”    
  
“And you agree with this?” The mother of the brave child that kept him trained with her bow dared to speak up, venture forth to approach the god so different than the one the media raised a storm over after the Invasion of New York. “You’re not… angry, are you?”   
  
Loki breathed a low chuckle as he sat back, resting his wrists upon his knees as he glances briefly to Tony discussing with animated gestures with the powers that be.

“Not at all. I rather loathe some actions I have made recently. I do not blame you at all.”

“Why did you do it?” A boy, outfitted proudly with a t-shirt emblazoned with a space adventurer doll on it inquired, looking rather confused and wary.   
  
Steepling his fingers, Loki mulled over the question… visibly seeming to ponder it deeply before he tilted his head. “There are times… young prince, when there are no pleasant choices available. There are times, when you will need to choose between what is bad, or what is terrible simply to survive. And there may be times… when you are so confused, you may not understand your options, or be able to care about the choices that are made.”   
  
The boy frowned slightly as he scratched his head with a baffled look.   
  
“So you’re saying that you didn’t want to do all those bad things?”   
  
Exhaling softly, Loki raised his gaze to the crowd that approached nearer, silent judges intent upon knowing the facts. Crossing his arms upon his knees, he rested his chin upon his vambraces.   
  
“What I wanted… truly did not matter at that time. My actions were simply what they had to be.” Raising his attention to Iron Man… he was momentarily entertained by the sight of him, with his helmet closed, obviously looking like he was having one hell of an argument with himself… or whomever was on the communication system with him. Regardless, he looked to be rather busy.   
  
“Well, now…” Loki begins as he settles himself to sit with those long lean legs crossed, making himself more comfortable. “...since we seem to have acquired a momentary truce, please do sit if you would you care for me to indulge you in a tale. Perhaps you are familiar with Thor, the mighty Avenger?”   
  
~~~   
  
Tony had never been more thrilled to hear the connection go dead on his communications system. He’d actually had to threaten Fury with denying him present and future Stark tech, as well as file vicious lawsuits over the products and IPs SHIELD had been using without permission or payments if he saw even ONE black suit or person without Mickey swag talking into their sleeve. He’d personally collect the Doom-bot bits and happily ship them to Fury as long as they didn’t show up and ruin his vacation more than the Latverian already had.   
  
Mercifully, the spy reluctantly backed down… obviously not pleased at the prospect that the God of Mischief was probably going to run scott free due to the odd truce worked out, but Tony’s threats were more than enough motivation to keep them at bay.   
  
Opening his mask, he sighed to the gentlemen in suits he’d had to momentarily neglect. “Sorry about that, fellas, just had to keep you guys from getting swarmed by paranoid secret agents.” He paused, however, noticing the curious entranced expressions upon the faces of the men.   
  
As laughter erupted from behind him, Tony turned to peer to the crowd that sat and stood around Loki who was well into full on story-teller mode… gesturing smoothly, gracefully as his voice weaved an amusing tale. The people were enchanted by the sorcerer that did grand imitations… and Thor’s voice was nailed almost to a T as those deft hands of the sorcerer wove his magic into glowing figures of what looked to be Thor chasing a foal with far too many legs to be normal, apparently the gangly young horse having stolen the young Thor’s practice weapon.   
  
It is astounding how the Silvertongue managed to already charm some of the crowd… though, it was obvious there were still a good many who bore a heavy amount of distrust and still more utterly confused and cautious. However, it’s evident that the mob wasn't going to either panic or lynch Loki. The children, especially, seemed to be fond of the story-teller.   
  
“So… what we were discussing about that neutral ground, fellas… Sanctuary… as far as Thor explained to me from his culture, Loki wants to mark this as a protected no-battle zone. Meaning… he would not fight, and neither would we, meaning the Avengers. And if anyone ELSE tries to bring in trouble, well… we’d both be obligated to defend it. I’d say it’s a win-win scenario, don’t you think?”   
  
“How can we be certain he won’t break his word?” The question was finally asked, and Tony drew a deep breath before sighing.    
  
“Look, these guys have some guidelines and rules… and even as nutterbutters as Bambi is over there, he’s actually been pretty civil and holds a code of conduct. Probably one of my preferred villains, I’d have to say. Tell you what… why don’t we all have a discussion together. Indoors. Because as cool as this suit is, I feel like I’m being char broiled alive here in the sun.”   
  
Mercifully, it only took another fifteen minutes more of convincing the powers that be and allowing Loki to wrap up his tale and bid farewell with his audience. The children, especially, seeming to enjoy the exotic sorcerer.   
  


Two hours later, Tony, along with Loki’s skills with words and an eerily sincere performance of ‘I have grown weary of villainy’, had managed to wrangle a deal to turn Disney World into a neutral zone… protected. Therefore, any future improvements in the God of Mischief could be touted as the Magic of Disney, and provide a phenomenal advertising boast. He’d even coerced Loki into signing the contract for the merchandising rights with the best witnesses anyone could ask for. After Loki made his escape, and Tony had returned to ‘check on Loren’ in a convenient hiding spot, the two returned to the room where Tony was only too happy to find a moment to breathe.

  
The engineer sat back in the chair with a creak of metal, and a damp cool cloth folded over his brow plastered with sweat matted brown hair. Tony sighed in bliss as he enjoyed the cold breeze of the AC. Drawing a deep gulp of the bottle of water, he allowed himself to sag in his suit in the chair, helmet perched upon the table as he groaned.   
  
“Lo… that was the best worst mess I’d ever seen out there.” He remarked absently as he listened to the disguised god rustle about within the room. “I’m sore as hell. Remind me, later, to kick Doom in the balls. He really pissed me off today.”   
  
“Oh, I noticed.” Came a soft amused voice behind Tony… and as Loren pat the armored shoulders meaningfully, he reluctantly rose to stand and allowed the suit parts to unpeel from his body to assemble, standing, in the corner. As he sagged back in the chair, Tony groaned lowly as marvelously wicked fingers began to knead the tensed muscles of his shoulders.   
  
“I was rather surprised, and thrilled, dare I say… to see you fly into such a rage over my behalf.” Loren hummed softly as she massaged out the rock hard knots in the inventor’s neck, and he shuddered, arching as she ran her knuckles firmly down his spine.   
  
“Ah! Damn…that feels so good.  I just don’t like him touching my stuff!” Tony’s eyebrows raised as he felt the plush form of breasts rest against the back of his head. A crooked boyish grin broke out over the genius’ face at the feeling.   
  
Loki was so damn playfully sexy it was painful. And unfair…. so SO unfair.   
  
“You say such sweet things.”   
  
Finally that sinful kneading that melted him into the chair ceased, and Tony raised his head to rest against the trickster’s chest, grinning with a dopy mirth to the God of Chaos who reached up to cup his cheeks before giving him a loud sounding light swat to one with the barest of playful stings.   
  
“Go clean yourself… you smell like a metallic horse.”   
  
“Nay.”   
  
A low irreverent snort escaped the deity before she pushed him with shameful ease from the chair to the bathroom. Just as the door was about to close, Tony wedged himself partially in the doorway to lean his head through to grin with a playful devilishness to the woman.   
  
“Say, princess… since I rescued you, and all… how about a kiss?” And as he teased the deity shamelessly by making elaborate smooching sounds, Loren merely laughed lightly before gently placing her hand on his face to push him through the door before she closed it.   
  
“Go, you ridiculous little mortal!”

~~~

Down by the entrance to the castle, Tony paced as he absently fiddled with the thin serpentine chain that adorned one of his wrists, looking every bit like the nervous teenager waiting on his prom date. Their attending cast member… Shelby, he thought he recalled her name was, looked vastly amused as she watched one of the most unflappable men seeming to fidget with bottled nerves in his designer suit.   
  
Of course, part of her amusement must have stemmed from the thing Tony had managed to sweet talk the Exec into letting him borrow… with a trade of his suit to be showcased at the Stark Tech part of Epcot during their stay. She had to deliver IT to the room while Loren was in the shower.   
  
He wasn’t nervous for the reasons she THOUGHT. No.   
  
He’s genuinely concerned that a particular God of Mischief might not find his little prank amusing and decided to flay him alive in the middle of the Magic Kingdom… which would have been a call to rival the one he’d had earlier with Pepper.   
  
As the ‘carriage’ lift made the sounds of descent, he turned and watched the doors open… and his breath caught in his throat.   
  
Loren… fuck it… LOKI was absolutely beautiful, stunning in Belle’s golden ball gown. With the long dark hair styled in artistic elegance and pale creamy skin, the woman was a stunning vision, as if she stepped straight out of a fairy tale, herself.   
  
And with the regal elegant air, the refined grace… the ethereal sense of stately stature, it struck home. She WAS a princess… or rather, Prince.   
  
“You look beautiful, Miss Kirk.” Thank goodness Sheila… no...Shelby, that’s right… Shelby snapped Tony from his dumbstruck state before he strode forward to offer his arm to the beautiful woman.   
  
“Thank you, Shelby, dear.” Loren murmured, the expression slowly blending from cautious to amused as she strode forward smoothly to slip her arm within Tony’s. Mercifully, she was kind enough to wear flats… even IF Tony was sporting his finest designer Italian leather custom heels.   
  
“This was quite the surprise, Tony.” She purred softly close to the engineer’s ear and goosebumps marched in merry invasion down his skin.   
  
“You’re telling me! Wow, all those guys are going to be SO jealous at dinner.” He pauses, then smirked with a roguish amusement as he winked to the elegant vision with a playful charm. “The women, too. How many princesses get to go on a date with THE Tony Stark?”   
  
She leans closer to tease a faint kiss to his cheek in an action that inspired a slight jolt of surprise from the billionaire, looking to the goddess of mischief who seemed to be watching him with mild acute interest.   
  
“Hmm… you haven’t turned into a prince.”   
  
Turned into a…   
  
… wait a second.   
  
“Did you just call me a frog?”   
  
A soft chuckle escaped the enigmatic woman.

Tony pouted, huffing a soft sound before he sighed dramatically.   
  
“Oh, you WOUND me so. Maybe you just didn’t do the kiss right.”   
  
“Now now, spare me the melodramatics, that IS my forte, after all.” Loren glibly quipped, finding amusement with the people going camera and phone hungry to catch the rather nondiscrete couple paraded through the park by their handler. She fell swiftly silent as they arrived at a building she easily recognized even without the name plate. The Castle of the Beast.   
  
She turns to peer to Tony, eyebrows raised with slight surprise as he lead her past the line of waiting mortals to the entrance, whispers and titterings followed in their wake.    
  
“I pity that poor woman that manages your affairs, Tony.” She murmured softly to the charismatic man that lead her by the arm. “You do realize that your cancerously spreadable media will veritably drown her with your latest antics.”   
  
“Hey, what’s so bad about a Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist making a rags to riches story by turning a poor artist into a Princess? I don’t see how this can be a bad thing for our PR.” Casually the logical remark was made as Tony drew the chair back at their table in a gentlemanly manner for her to maneuver sitting in the large flowing shimmering skirts.   
  
She raised a flat look, her garnet toned lips quirked into nothing short of a wickedly amused look.   
  
“Oh, utilizing my poor standing and goodwill to your benefit… you fiendish little man. I feel so very USED.” Oh, there was something wrong… SO wrong with the way she veritably purred the word used.

Dinner was pleasant… it’s not haute cuisine, but the food was delicious, the service excellent, and the Beauty and Beast performers and cast members deserved immense kudos for managing such an atmosphere. However, their conversation was cut short by something unexpected.

Children. Somehow, they seem drawn by the elegant beauty, and not for the first time, Tony witnessed how shockingly good Loki was with children, seeming to delight and enchant them. ‘ _What would I know of children?’_ Those words returned to him, and the sharp edge and pain that bled from behind the trickster’s mask at that moment.  
  
He had to have children, there could be no other explanation for it. Hell, he might even been an amazing dad… er.. mom. There’s just so much that Loki kept hidden away, and doubtlessly with good reason. Tony had come to learn how tightly Loki defended his details to keep from being hurt… further.  
  
Now, he eyed his Princess magnet, and the children that assailed Loren with many questions and ruthless curiosity, and like a gallant Prince, himself, Tony set down his napkin before he rose smoothly. The mogul collected one of Loren’s gloved hands before he slipped a hand around her waist, guiding her to her feet carefully mindful of the dress.  
  
“Come on, Princess, shall we dance?”  
  
It began somewhat awkwardly at first… Tony not having ballroom danced since he was a teenager, and Loki apparently having only witnessed it on film. However, the nimble clever god and the stubborn mortal finally settled into a smooth waltz, collecting the attention of an audience of diners as the celebrity and the elegantly dressed princess swept the free space of the floor to the music that filtered through like a fairy tale come to life.  
  
“This is quite the rescue.” Loren murmured, smiling with shameless amusement to the gregarious mortal who merely shrugged as he lead her into a turn.  
  
“Hey, maybe, I was a little jealous.”  
  
“They were but children. Mostly little girls.”  
  
“They were travelling in a pack. Everyone knows girls are dangerous when they travel in a pack. And maybe I just wanted a good excuse to take you for a spin on the floor.”  
  
“You ridiculously sentimental little fool.” However, with the ‘s’ word, there was neither scorn nor mock… merely a soft fondness.  
  
“Maybe I am.”  
  
“Perhaps you are… but you are my little fool.”  
  
Gasps abounded, shock and surprise atwitter in the crowd as soft clicks and snicks, light flickering and flashing, but it all seemed so distant in the back of Tony’s mind.  
  
What had truly enraptured his attention was the soft pliant lips pressed to his own, flavoured by the lingering taste of chocolate and sweetness from desert, a slow devastatingly lingering kiss befitting classic Hollywood stolen by the Princess in his arms.  
  
Surprise melted into utter delight as he slipped his arms more smoothly around the slim waist, and even as their lips parted, he held her close, still, closing his eyes as he pressed his cheek to hers.  
  
Clint was SO going to kill him.


	10. Ten For a Surprise You Should Be Careful Not to Miss (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss is never enough, not judging by Tony Stark's track record, and the two fully intend to expand their knowledge of each other. There is a storm brewing, and soon it will strike in a thunderous glory. 
> 
> All is not as it seems, and secrets and hidden plots shall rise to the fore.
> 
> WARNING: Here there be smut. You've been warned. Actually, it's pretty much a given from this point on.
> 
> Apologies: Sorry about that last chapter posting... I was in a rush and had little time to play online. Hopefully, I catch up on the goodies and extra info here!

Tony Stark was in a good mood.  
  
A glorious good mood.  
  
So good, in fact, he hummed to himself as he relished in the contentment of his epiphany from the night before. For once in his life, he was genuinely happy and content. Oh, he knew his track record too damn well, and something was inevitably going to crop up and challenge that… but at that time, he was fresh out of flying monkeys to give.  
  
Perhaps he SHOULD have felt some modicum of guilt for turning the God of Chaos into a fairy tale princess, and he KNEW he wasn't Prince Charming material, but that kiss last night was electrifying. It brought a tingle somewhere in the vicinity of his arc reactor, and not in a bad way.  
  
And furthermore, he hadn’t even considered leading that to the inevitable romp in the bed a kiss tended to steer his mind to. He was just… happy. They both were, and retired to much needed rest. Together.  
  
Gliding his razor along his cheek with a soft whispered rasp, he performed his morning sculpt with practiced precision, and yet, he had to fight from smiling. Jovial spirits threatened to take over his expression and lead his aim askew.  
  
Loki, of course, being the earlier riser, had already hit the shower first, but as Tony tapped his razor to shed it of bristle and lather, a rather peculiar thought struck him. After all this time, after the two of them seemed to have interwoven their lives in this brief period, and even as they worked around each other smoothly like parts of a well oiled machine that morning in the bathroom, the Genius came to a rather startling discovery.  
  
The God of Mischief didn't shave.  
  
Hell, even during that day and a half they’d held Loki prisoner… the norse god hadn’t even shown a hint of five o-clock shadow.  
  
Tony instantly dismissed the notion that it was an ‘Asgardian Thing’ because Thor couldn’t KEEP clean shaven. For a man with remarkably baby smooth bulging biceps and chest, he had a beard like a chia pet on crack.  
  
Loki wasn’t there to ask, unfortunately, because Loren departed early to go boutique hopping with their guide for a swimsuit with the intent to fully enjoy the benefits of waterside fun and whimsical luxury.  
  
Of course, being the man Tony was… he had to wonder precisely HOW far Loki’s ‘no shave’ genetic benefit extended…  
  
The sound of the door opening captured Tony’s ear, and he perked noticeably. Rinsing and wiping away the last of the soapy lather from his face, he hastily pat on aftershave before he strode merrily to the room, comfortable with just his towel on.  
  
“Hey, sweetcheeks! Let’s hit the Crystal Palace for breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry enough to eat a… bear…”  
  
The inventor’s arc reactor hummed on as his heart fluttered, words trailed off as he saw not his charming deceiver guest/ favourite villain… but a rather grim faced God of Thunder bedecked out in what looks to be full on war armor. Complete with ceremonial helm. With wings. Well, he couldn't really joke about Loki’s horns as much.  
  
Tony’s words caught in his throat, failing him.  
  
As did the knot on his towel slung around his waist.  
  
Thor didn't even bat an eye.  
  
“Man of Iron… we must discuss grave news...”  
  
Snapped from his momentary stupor, Tony scrabbled to capture his escaped length of terrycloth and reclaim his modesty with a slight awkward stumble.  
  
“Holy fuck, Thor… there’s this Earth Custom… Two of them! One’s called knocking, the other’s called ‘Saying ‘Hey, Tony, it’s Thor!’’ so your mortal ally doesn’t get another heart attack!!!” He was babbling. And he knew it.  
  
Not merely a verbal result of frazzled nerves… but the continuous stream of words, he KNEW, got his larger compatriot lost rather easily at times.  
  
“Look, I’m getting dressed… why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind while I do what I gotta do.” And, mercifully, Tony found himself luckily awashed with distractions of choosing clothing, shimmying into iron man merchandise board shorts, and taking as much time as he could while he dreaded meeting Thor face to face.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Fuck fuck fuck!  
  
What if Thor knew? What if all of Asgard knew? Would he have been in deep water for harboring a pangalactic fugitive?  
  
Or would Thor break his bones if he found out his fellow Avenger kissed his brother...sister...whatever?!

“Loki has escaped his cell in Asgard.” The Prince began, that low growled voice laden with wariness and strain, and Tony performed an odd little dance trying to get into his shorts while he scrabbled with his other hand’s thumb to trying to figure out HOW to send Loki a message on his Stark Phone… before he realized that the arcane sorcerer portraying an art pauper didn't ’t HAVE a phone.  
  
He was going to change that the second they got back. IF they got back.  
  
“You don’t say, big guy. Well… I’ll keep an eye out for...”  
  
“Heimdall has informed me that my brother had been targeting you, my friend. I arrived as soon as the Bifrost’s function have been repaired. I regret not returning to you sooner.”  
  
Brown eyes blinked before the Engineer poked his head from the bathroom to peer like a groundhog cautiously to Thor from around the door frame before he slowly stepped around it as he eyed Thor with a probing stare.  
  
“Heimdall.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“The gate guard, guy.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Who sees in all the realms.”  
  
“Yes, Friend Tony.”  
  
“All the people and things.”  
  
“That is correct.”  
  
A long silence ensued.  
  
“He, like… doesn’t watch me in the shower, does he?”  
  
A low laugh broke free from the blond warrior’s grim seriousness, those blue eyes atwinkle with mirth as he shook his head.  
  
“Heimdall does not like to pry into personal matters.”  
  
“Well, that’s a relief. It’s bad enough keeping the paparazzi and SHIELD’s peeping toms out of my business, but I don’t need paranoia issues stemming from constantly wondering if a god is seeing me work my Stark Magic with the ladies.”  
  
That easy smile of the Norse warrior melted into an unabashedly worried look, and immediately, Tony’s insides seized in worry and tension.  
  
“Uh… you said he saw something with me and your brother?”

“Very little, to be said in all truth… and that is concerning to both he and I. What he knows, is the response of others and the after effects of Loki’s antics. My brother is exceptionally gifted with using his magic to conceal himself from Heimdall’s far seeing eyes, though there are times when he catches glimpses of Loki. When he is compromised, or wounded, or when his magic has been taxed or disrupted.”

Tony stepped further into the room, t-shirt loosely clasped in his hand as he stared to the God before him. Oh hell… he hadn’t even thought about that.  
  
“I returned to visit with you, Friend Tony, for Heimdall has not been able to clearly see you since the day my brother spared your life.”  
  
Double fuck.  
  
Silence hung heavy, thickly within the room, and Tony’s eyes dropped to follow where Thor’s gaze seemed to draw. The arc reactor shone brilliantly, a beautiful perversity entrapped in the human’s chest. Swiftly, Tony’s self consciousness kicked in before he tugged on his shirt to mask that luminous life saver and modern miracle.  
  
“Probably my little toy there. It kind of messes with some sensory devices… I have to wear special liner shirts whenever I go to some places with sensitive equipment or making science with Brucy bear. He says it tends to override and recalibrate gamma waves, and he thinks that’s part of how it kept Loki from taking over my mind in New York...” Yes, stream of words to confuse, distract. Tony really needed to not have a large hunting golden retriever sniffing around him. JUST when things were going so well.  
  
“That is what Heimdall states his belief for the interference may be.”  
  
Thor’s grim bearing eased somewhat, but then he suddenly looked… TIRED as he sat on the couch.  
  
That was a strange look for such an unstoppable seeming man, someone who could continue to happily fight even when Captain America was ready for a breather and the rest were already shaking in weariness.

It just seemed wrong to see a God so bone weary and exhausted looking.

Tension and fear bled from Tony as he realized that there may have certainly been trouble in Paradise in the realm of the gods.  
  
“The All Father, Odin… has ordered for me to return and bring Loki back in order to face Asgardian justice and stand his trial. His recent actions have made my father… quite displeased.”  
  
Displeased. Right. And the Titanic was just a small leak in a boat. He could hear the depth of that understated word, and Tony’s most logical interpretation was ‘worlds rending wrath’.  
  
“Well, yeah… I should know all about the mess that comes out of skipping court dates… but what if, say, he needed time to get his defense in order?”  
  
The Thunderer stared to Tony with a slight furrowing of blond brows. The Thunderer looked thoroughly confused and troubled.  
  
”Man of Iron, who would stand in my brother’s defense? And even without any, what words could he say that would be believed?”  
  
This struck the genius silent, pausing, as realization sunk into his bones why Thor looked so decidedly haggard. Tony reached out to pat one of those powerfully muscled shoulders in a comradely gesture before he leaned down to pick up his sneakers.  
  
“Well, I guess that’s probably why he seems to enjoy hiding out on Earth. If there’s any place to hide from the law, I guess we’ve made an art out of it. Plus, I think he finds us entertaining. Maybe if both Loki and Big Daddy blow off their respective steams, things might work out better.”  
  
“I am to retrieve Loki once I see him.” Thor remarked gravely, however, as he rose to stand, he blinked, peering down to Tony. Grim concern vanished before a look of surprise and almost childlike curiosity graced Thor’s face. And he was staring straight at Tony.  
  
“What… did I trim my beard funny?” The engineer hedged warily as he craned his neck to stare up to the obscenely tall monolithic warrior.  
  
“Man of Iron… I do not recall you being so… TINY.”  
  
Oh for the love of… Tony dropped to sit and immediately and tugged his custom sneakers on before grumbling as he jerked on his laces with a vicious vengeance.  
  
“That’s not even fuckin’ funny, Thor. Maybe I’m not short. Maybe you’re just weirdly BIG...”  
  
“Then why are you wearing such strange shoes?”  
  
Immediately, a finger jabbed to point to Thor’s face in a chastising gesture that evoked a boyish grin from the towering warrior. “Don’t even go there! You aren’t allowed to be perceptive.”  
  
Rising to stand, blessed with a few more inches ( yet still woefully lacking compared to the looming Aesir), Tony threw up his hands up into the air.  
  
“Y’know what? Fuck this! I’m on vacation! I’m not going to give a rat’s fuzzy ass about Avenger business, intergalactic law, or what trouble that nut cluster of a brother of yours is in now. I’m going to go and have fun, and that’s final.”  
  
Of course, as he tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his red long swim shorts with Iron Man emblazoned gloriously on them, he failed to notice the sound of the lift rising until he raised his head to abruptly greet a deliciously damning sight. A beautiful raven haired woman entered in the most illegally lovely blue shorts and stylish Maleficent tshirt with a glimpse of a rich green strap of a bikini peeking tied behind her back, and the wild long black curling hair pulled into a high ponytail.  
  
He found himself speechless, staring to the beautiful tourist before him.Ruby lips pulled into vast amusement before she slipped her shades off to capture honey brown eyes with her own as she leaned forward and placed an endearing kiss upon his cheek.  
  
“My sweet Prince, nothing you can spoil me with can delight me as much as how I enjoy seeing you gape in appreciation.” As her arm slipped around his waist, that long supple body slunk closer…

Until a low choked sound escaped from behind Tony, and immediately that supple form tensed abruptly against the inventor. He didn't want to turn. He really didn't. But he felt the tension rising like a cat and dog about to square off, and the Avenger gathered his courage to look to his comrade he could practically feel sizzle in tension.

Thor was staring with a shocked look of unabashed alarmed surprise, lips parted and yet words failed to fall forth, though it was evident he WISHED for so many to escape. This was precisely the situation Tony was worried about. Maybe… maybe, though, it might not have ended in blood shed. The cleaning bill to that prestigious room would have supplied him with a year’s worth of earache alone from Pepper.  
  
“Friend Tony… I pray with all my heart...” Thor began to speak slowly as he  stared intently to the woman… and the one she was slowly slinking herself in front of protectively. “...that you have a sound explanation.”  
  
Funny, Tony really would like have liked to voice his thoughts into words, and yet, he was not sure precisely HOW to phrase them.  
  
“Ah… community service?”  
  
Well, it wasn't verbose, but it was honest.  
  
“I have currently been immortalizing the dead in an edifice of remembrance: a payment to the souls both living and deceased from the Battle of New York.” Loren began to speak, words certain, intent: unwavered and even laced with an unexpected pride. “Along the way, Tony has been dearly kind to me, assisting me in my task, and granting support I would not have expected. He has been nothing more than a Prince to me, and I have… subsequently learned more of the city and the people whom dwell there. In return, I aid him when and where I can.”  
  
Slowly, Thor seemed to mull, process over these words spoken as he stared to the woman grimly before him and the human she seemed to be protecting. A human whom’s heart seemed to have wanted to riot and escape through his throat.  
  
“And this pleases you?” The thunderer inquired deliberately, slowly.  
  
Crimson lips drew into a smile. However… it neither mocked nor sneered… almost gentle and fond before she turned to ruffle her fingers through the smaller male’s wild brown locks.  
  
“I have not been happier in so very, very long.”  
  
A thick heavy silence settled before Thor cocked his head to peer first to the woman  who stood tall before him, and his team mate in question before his expression eased. Thor spoke with a more cordial tone.  
  
“Ah, forgive my rudeness, My Lady… but I have not inquired of your name. I am Thor, the Man of Iron’s brother in arms.”  
  
It took a long moment as Tony’s brain puttered from panic to confusion, a shift as jarred as throwing a car from 5th gear into reverse.  
  
“Wait… wh…. hold on, MC Hammer, if you’re asking who she is now, why all the wary suspicion talk and dangerous posturing?”  
  
“Your exploits are rather legendary, according to our noble archer and the wise Black Widow. I merely wished to ensure that the Fair Lady’s virtues remain unsullied.”  
  
Silence descended as Thor looked to be genuinely and unabashedly honest in this whiplash answer of simplicity and covert jab to Tony’s reputation.  
  
“Hold the phone, Blondie… I’m not THAT bad…”

“I am known as Loren Kirk. A pleasure to meet one of Tony’s little friends.” The raven haired woman cooed and smiled with a shameless charisma to Thor before she sidled to the flustered engineer’s side, a well placed arm around his waist to quiet his complaints swiftly. “Have you come to join him in merriment in this world of Disney?”  
  
“Nay, Lady Loren, I have come in search of my brother.” Thor stated with a deep sigh. “When I see him, I am ordered to bring him back to face the punishment he is due.”

“Yeah, about your bro-OW!” Tony yelped, hissed as sharp nails began to dig into his ribs, and mortal squirmed with a jittery jig. “Watch where you’re putting that manicure, Sweet Cheeks...”

“Sweet Cheeks?” Thor repeated with a slight furrowing of his brows, looking vaguely offended before Tony interrupted him.  
  
“Let’s focus on the topic here. LOKI… aren’t you supposed to be looking for him?” Tony pressed, wondering if it could be remotely possible that Thor genuinely didn't recognize his own brother in disguise.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
He couldn’t BE that lucky. Or the Asgardian that dense.  
  
“Well?”  
  
“I do not see any man fitting his description within this location.”  
  
Loren eased beside Tony, as the human simply stared to the brilliantly beaming blond who smiled with the corners of his blue eyes crinkled with genuine mirth.  
  
Well, it looked like he might be right on both accounts.

“Uhm, we’re about to head out… look, since you came out all this way, why don’t you join us for breakfast, big guy? But, could you give us just a moment to get ready for the day?” With a finger held up in a gesture for a moment of privacy, Tony then stuck his hand within Loren’s elbow to guide her into the bathroom before the door closed with a click.

And immediately turned the water on in the sink to make listening through the door difficult before he began hissing in a low whisper to the sorceress who looked mildly bemused as he gestured with emphatic meaning to spice his words.  
  
“Holy Hell, how can your br...” With the hard glare, Tony smoothly adjusted his words. “...brick of a childhood companion POSSIBLY be this dense?! We’re lucky he doesn’t recognize you.”  
  
Loren, for her part merely crossed her arms under her breasts before she remarked flatly with a blasé aplomb.  
  
“Oh, he knows this form, well. It was grand fun tormenting and ushering him into coming of age with it.” Ruby lips drew into a positively devilish smirk, especially as it obviously planted wicked seeds into Tony’s fertile mind.  
  
“What… wait… are you saying you and he… y’know. Forget it. Don’t tell me. I’d rather not know.” But it went a LONG way to explain SO many things. Tony pried free his mind and pressed it back onto the subject athand. “So why isn’t he bringing the hammer down or clapping you in irons?”  
  
The sorceress shifted her gaze to peer to the door with a deeply contemplative air before she spoke softly. “Did you not hear him? He stated he is to return Loki once he finds ‘HIM’. He even, and rather bluntly, proclaimed that he saw no man matching such a description.”  
  
Dark brows furrowed as Tony leaned against the counter, fidgeting with the hand towel as he began to realize that Loki was completely correct in her observation.  
  
“Wasn’t that kind of heavy handed?”  
  
“It is Thor. Would you expect anything less?”  
  
Well, Heavy Handed IS the Thunderer’s style.  
  
“And what about this Heimlich guy?”  
  
“Heimdall sees many things, Stark, however, how he interprets them, and how he chooses to reveal them, is another matter entirely.” Loren bore a deeply thoughtful look before she plucked the towel from Tony’s hands.  
  
“Not that I’m not grateful... I am… so why is your brother keeping a lid on what he found?”  
  
“It seems one of two motivators. One would be that the trial and punishment awaiting me are severe and unjust within his view, or he believes me to have found redemption. I suspect a little of both reasons would convince Thor to happily turn a blind eye.”  
  
Tony wrinkled his nose slightly before he focused on Loki with a studious skepticism.  
  
“Oh, so did you find redemption?”  
  
Loren remained silent before she leaned closer to pin the mortal to the counter with her body as her arms slipped past his waist. Soft inviting lips stole Tony’s breath as they dipped closely in to ghost over the inventor’s own.  
  
“I like to think I found something worthy of my attention and protection.”  
  
However, as the playboy leaned in for that kiss, the sound of water ceased before she drew away, leaving but the lingering tease of her taste and feel ghosted over his lips without the prize of a kiss as she stepped away.  
  
Tottering forward a step as the svelte creature slunk to the door, Tony blinked as he realized she’d teased him OH so mercilessly and left him hanging. After that kiss, last night, he’d been hungry for another: to explore, taste more of that sweet pliant mouth, but distractions had abounded.  
  
And the main one was waiting just on the other side of the door. A barrier that was clicked unlocked as Loren strode through with her willowy grace to collect the small bag with a few all day essentials both Tony and the guide suggested she carry. He couldn't help but admire the view, though. With that limber body bent over to re-secure buckles on her sandals, he was staring at a pair of sinfully long smooth pale legs, bare and toned marvellously all the way up to that deliciously inviting ass clad in those royal blue shorts.  
  
A slight hair raising tingle teased the back of Tony’s neck to draw his attention back to the Thunder God, whom he’d COMPLETELY forgotten about for a moment, and a jealously forbidding stare warily watched the inventor like a guard dog.  
  
Tony swallowed slightly before he plucked out his wallet to leaf through unnecessary things in search of a distraction in order to not meet the intense stare of the over protective brother to one of the world’s more notorious villains.  
  
Really, was it wrong if Thor’s more worried about what Tony would do to his brother, compared to what the God of Chaos could do to the mortal? With that level of overprotectiveness, Tony could see why Loki would cultivate some the of the issues he had. Especially the competitive spirit. Maybe if he felt that if he proved to Thor he could defeat him, Thor wouldn't be so smothering over his little brother.  
  
Breakfast was a strange affair. Not just that he was bookended by two absurdly tall people at the table. But it was more weird to be stuck between two KNOWING nemesis/loving brothers in a love/hate relationship that would make Freud cream… whilst, at the same time, pretending to be complete and utter strangers. It was awkward.

At least for Tony.  
  
If anything, pretending to be strangers meeting cordially seemed to work for the (not)brothers, and Loren and Thor seemed to be conversing surprisingly amiably: discussing her current project, living with Tony, how formidable a woman Pepper Potts was, and especially, how openly Loren was in describing the countless wonders she had discovered in this ‘World of Disney’.  
  
After having seen them bicker on an almost cataclysmic level thus far both on the battlefield and off, Tony was beginning to see how the siblings(blood or not) had cohesion as friends in the past. If his numbers were right, over a century of that couldn’t have been destroyed over night, as Thor’s explanation of his Brother’s fall seemed to give.  
  
And so Tony Stark remained remarkably quiet, content to observe the fondness and ease the two fell into. Thor was allowed to guilt free and propriety free make a reacquaintance with someone he dearly missed, and Loki could drop all pride and baggage associated with his male form and villainous identity to ‘pretend’ to be someone else… and yet was the same person underneath.  
  
Tony could have boosted his fortune by selling the story as a Hallmark channel movie.

Thor seemed to have been altogether pleased, though his guard wasn't entirely down, by Loren’s current memorial tasks. And more so when he discovered the gained interest in Midgard that the other Prince had. Apparently, from what the engineer genius could gather, Earth was like an amusement park/ petting zoo for the godly sorts, and no one up in the lofty kingdom seemed to know about it; stuck fast in the beliefs that it was filled with backwaters dull neanderthals that wallowed in their impoverishment. Well, the closest local analogy would be comparing Hollywood’s high end to America’s backwoods rednecks… and finding out, instead, it was like visiting the Bahamas. A little less advanced, but a whole lot of fun.

Without a doubt, the billionaire was getting his money’s worth out of those two. It was a brilliant choice to bring them to the Magic Kingdom’s finest buffet, and subsequently, the tall man and woman earned quite an assortment of stares because of the array of plates they continued to collect and clear.

Breakfast bled into lunch. Not merely from the chitchat or the constant raid upon the buffet, but a decked out Thor, and the subsequently recognized Tony Stark gathered a bit of an audience from people that craved autographs and pictures. A slight cultural misunderstanding brewed forth as apparently the Aesir believed a name to be significant and hold power, and not to be signed willy nilly. However, Tony interceded with his usual aplomb ingenuity and sketched out a thunder bolt design over a T on a paper napkin, which Loren brainstormed along with the inventor until they settled on the Norse symbol of Thor’s hammer with a lightning bolt… something swift and easy to scribe down, and not breaking any cultural taboos but could be a mark of the Thunderer. Said warrior was more than pleased to scrawl the logo, though a few pens suffered from his strength.  
  
Tony could sign his name drunk AND asleep… which was actually how half his problems with Stane’s under the radar projects and sales returned to bite him in the ass. Needless to say, he endeavored not to do THAT any longer, and Pepper never abused that flawed skill unless it was to coax(trick) him into RSVPing certain social events.

Loren simply sat, smiling with an odd softness as she watched Tony being himself with the kids and adults… glib, quick tongued and briskly friendly with a healthy edge of sarcasm. The inventor found himself vastly entertained how she leaned closer, placed her hand almost possessively upon his shoulder, or smoothly interceded his attention if certain vulturous women poured on TOO much charm upon the legendary playboy and showed, perhaps, a little too much of their cleavage than necessary.

It had become a unanimous decision between Tony and Loren that Thor desperately needed more ‘mundane’ attire… as being stopped far too often because of recognition began to draw more and more upon the pair’s patience.

Tony of course, despite himself, could not help but notice that Loki had managed to convince the still too trusting brother into sporting a shirt with the image of a rather odd looking dog with a strange orange hat.  
  
Somehow, Goofy did seem to pair well with the blonde, and matched his easy smile. Despite his better judgment, Tony was able to be talked into taking the pair of alien visitors to the water park, and immediately, the two ancient beings of another world seemed as thrilled and delighted as a pair of teens on summer break.  
  
It only took Tony one ride on a slide before he found himself shaking off a severe case of PTSD shakes on a beach towel his attending cast member spread on the grass.  He passed it off as a desire to laze like a lizard… and he shooed off the pair to enjoy the more daring of watery adventures.  
  
Mercifully, idle chitchat with Mark (their ever so helpful cast member) helped ease him from tortured memories and reeled senses. The business tycoon began to learn of the college internship program the fellow, a kid really, was using to both earn credits and get a foot in the door with working at The company. A clever program: to train them early and build a healthy company resource.  
  
The ingenuitive business aspect as well as the boy’s interests in hospitality services had banished away the lingering terrifying memories and the subsequent shaking, and eventually their talks drifted to Stark Industries and inevitably the Iron Man suits.  
  
He must have managed to drift to a near doze off at some point, because he was interrupted by the sudden stinging chilling cold of water dripped upon his skin. Peeking his eyes open, he stared to the source of interruption of his sunny drying. There was Loren, standing over him wet and pale in that vibrant green bikini. Droplets glistened upon her lily pale skin like dew drops, and it inspired the strangest urge for him to run his tongue over that impossibly smooth skin and capture those sprinkles.

Shaking his head to clear it, he tugged his shades lower to peer up to the woman shrewdly and  noticed an odd mingling of concern and mischief alight in those clever green eyes.  
  
“Dear Mark, I hope Tony has not been too bothersome for you alone. I know how exhausting he can be.”  
  
“Ah… well, it’s not a problem, Miss Kirk… I mean, it’s my job, after all.”  
  
“And you do it well. Have a fifteen minute break to rest and enjoy a little shade… I will watch after him, and we will be here when you return.”  
  
At first the lad almost protested, however, as she collected  her small bag and plucked out a bottle of sunblock, she allowed those mystic green eyes to slowly raise to meet the boy’s from behind sooty lashes. She offered a sinfully alluring smile with ruby lips, the mere sight smothered Mark’s words into his throat until only a breathless ‘Yes Miss Kirk’ escaped before he rushed off in a fluster.  
  
Tony stared flatly to Loren.  
  
“No brainwashing on our vacation. I thought you were cleaning up your act?”  
  
An irreverent snort escaped the woman as she opened the cap and smelled the product within the tube before she sneezed lightly, wrinkling her nose pertly. It was an oddly cute sight to see. Rather unexpected, too. “Do not be so dense, Stark. I exerted no magic at all.” She bore a wicked smirk, turning that smile she shared with the boy, and ratcheted the sexy level ten fold as she met those alert cinnamon eyes.  
  
“I merely persuaded him with words alone.”

Porn. Pure unadulterated liquid, smokey, beautiful erotic porn made up the essence of this woman… no… man… no… WHATEVER. Regardless, as she slipped to straddle over Tony’s hips, her smirk grew rather victorious as her thinly clad bottom settled over a betraying firmness.

Sweet mercy, Tony knew what she did to the kid, because he could feel lust sparkle warmly through him before it pooled in his loins. A low moan escaped as that wet toned pressure settled nestled on his lap, the twin globes of muscle cupped over each side of his treacherously budding arousal as if they were two puzzle pieces meant for each other.  
  
Dropping his head back, Tony groaned as he closed his eyes as he attempted to reign himself in. Any guilt he might have had in his attraction to the God of Mischief melted away with that enchanting kiss the night before. Tony felt his renewed libido happily greet the sinfully sultry creature.  
  
The first touch of cool creamy slickness upon his cheeks made the hero snap his eyes open to stare up to Loren who leaned over him…and immediately fell to breasts that hung low, swaying in their green hammock and as mesmerizing as a hypnotist's pendulum pendant.  
  
Loren cared not one bit where the shameless mortal’s eyes were treacherously locked with obvious lecherous thoughts sifting through the brilliant mind. She focused, instead, on rubbing the soothing cool balm of sunblock to help protect his skin.  
  
He should have known better… sweet mercy, Tony should have had better control over himself. Out in a kid friendly park, a place for families, and decades of innocent dreams, he should have behaved at his best.  
  
But he wanted to do so many nefarious things to the woman perched atop him… and he KNEW that she could feel him through the thin materials of bikini and boardshorts. He KNEW that Loren… no… LOKI was fully aware of the sensual way she was massaging the cream into his skin with those long sinful fingers.  
  
Vaguely, a part of his mind (suspiciously sounded like Steve’s voice) warned him that he shouldn’t have been having such thoughts: not simply because of where he was, but because Loki, technically, was their enemy. But that largely Stark part of him urged shamelessly that Loki was what he WANTED.  
  
And when in the past had he not tried, at all costs, to get what he wants?  
  
He endured the treatment to his arms with low hums of appreciation, and his legs with growing… delight. But it was when she began to tug the shirt up, beginning to bare his belly that Tony’s hands darted over the long fingered pale ones, snapped him from complacency by alarm.

“No.” Amusement and interest melted into wariness and suspicion upon those lovely features as Loren peered to the mortal that dare deny her, and Tony realized how his word of interruption may have sounded.  
  
“The shirt stays on.” The engineer clarified before he eased his hands from her as those pale cool fingers settled upon the bared flesh of his belly. “I don’t like when people can see… it.”  
  
Realization settled with Loren as she sat back to peer to the troubled mortal beneath her before she smiled softly.  
  
His vulnerability.  
  
Squeezing a bit more of the cool creamy substance into her hand, the trickster then slid them up to glide UNDER the shirt to begin rubbing the lotion into his skin, and sweet mercy, it felt amazing.  
  
Tony could not help but stare to the obscene lumps that writhed like bodies under bedsheets beneath the thin material of his shirt, and how wonderful, how sinfully he could feel the slickened cool fingers slither over sensitive scarred flesh.  
  
He hardly noticed when clouds seemed to overcast over the skies unexpectedly as he settled his hands upon Loki’s hips to try to better steady that svelte form, to ground himself… and as those exploring sinful digits caressed over the puckered freshly scarred skin around his arc reactor, the mortal breathed out a strangled sound as he bucks sharply.  
  
“Holy fu-”  
  
“MAN OF IRON!”  
  
And then… it began to rain, storming loudly. People were sent askitter and aflutter to find ironic safety in a water park from the water falling from the sky. Tony snapped his head up to see furious blue eyes of a livid norse god… and a frantically worried Mark that raced to try to intercept a potentially disastrous situation. Even in board shorts and a Goofy shirt, the God of Thunder was pretty damn terrifying.  
  
“Hold it! I’m not doing anything...”  
  
“Oh, cease your blustering, Thor. I was applying a balm to protect his tender skin from the harshness of the sun. Do remember that humans are more fragile than you.”  
  
“Your hands were under his shirt...”  
  
Tony tensed as he realized just now… how lewdly OBVIOUS the TLC may have looked. Loren replied smoothly, simply, without an ounce of guilt.  
  
“He does not like to remove his shirt because of his chest… do not be so dense, Thor. THINK.” With blond brows furrowed and the rain letting up slowly into a faint drizzle, he spoke in a perplexed growl, pointing to Tony.  
  
“Then how can you explain his actions as innocent?”  
  
To which, those piercing venom green eyes stared to Thor who dared to challenge, and no word parted ruby lips before slender fingers stroked once more.  
  
Tony yelped with a jerk on the ground.  
  
“Because, dear Thor, The flesh from Tony’s recent medical procedure is still healing. His nerves are raw. To touch around the seam of metal...”  
  
Again, like pushing a button, Tony exhaled a breathy yip and jerked like a frog with electricity pumped into it before  he slumped back, panting. He was hard, SO hard against Loren, and he KNEW she felt it throb, nestled between the globes of her thinly clad ass.  
  
“Uhm… I’m sorry to interrupt, but we would rather not have a spectacle here.” Mark, blessed voice of reason, finally spoke up in blessed interruption of the bickering pair. The shaking engineer was filled with mingled relief and frustration.  
  
“Yeah… need to go back…time for medicine...” Tony managed to speak with a glance to Loren meaningfully before she eased to rise. The mischievous woman mercifully kept her body as a visual block before she handed him the towel he had been laying on. This let him drape it long over his shoulder and mercifully hide a rather obscene tenting in his shorts.  
  
There was something almost suicidal, the inventor decided, in his penis. It seemed to thrive on life threatening situations:first Loki… now Thor and the aforementioned god’s brotherly spat.  
  
With Thor’s concerned look about the medicine and their readiness to go, Tony sighed before he shook his head. “Look, Point Break… it’s like this. I damn near died if Loki didn’t give me my old Arc Reactor back and kept my heart ticking until help came. Hell, I damn near kicked the bucket on the table, the Doc said. So… it’s going to take me awhile to get back to my usual speed. I’m human, so I don’t bounce back like you. I gotta take meds and get my rest when I have to. I’m doing better, but I’m not back on full thrusters… yet. Loren’s been helping me, so I’ve taken it for granted she’s my nurse. I don’t think I’d have recuperated as fast without her.”  
  
Silence settled on the four of them… Mark included before Tony turned his attention to their assistant. “Look, I’m going to head back to the castle with Loren. Probably not going to go anywhere for a few hours. If I do, I’ll call you. Until then, maybe you could take him to Downtown Disney? Take him to see the shows, whatever. Just put it all on my tab.” He paused on an afterthought, then gestured. “Make sure he eats at a buffet for dinner.”

Their guide nodded as he turned to escort the God of Thunder away… but the blond warrior cast a final worried look to Tony and Loren before he followed the teenager away. Tony exhaled a ragged breath as Loren began to tug on her shorts and shirt and winced as he began to walk somewhat stiffly, though he eased slightly as Loren slipped her arm around his waist.  
  
“And people wonder why I had been driven to madness.” She muttered in a low tone, but the soft sigh took any bite out of the words.  
  
“I don’t know how you survived that for so long.”  
  
“Mischief, my dear Stark. Mischief.”  
  
“Has he always been a godly cockblock to you? Because I totally know that jealous look and interference shindig.” The soft groan of frustration revealed far too much for Tony, and he breathed a low chuckle as he lead his lovely companion in a slightly shuffled walk back to the bus stop.  
  
“I can see why he’d be worried about you, though. I know what you were doing. ‘Lotion’ my ass.”  
  
Soft plush lips ghosted Tony’s ear and he could FEEL the devilish smile teasing the sultry lips. “I fully intend to, considering what I will do with it once we are alone.”  
  
Fear raced goose bumps as a thrill seared down his spine… and he could feel himself puckering tightly even as his rebellious sex throbbed in eagerness.  
  
Oh… right. He never considered THAT.

 

~~~

 

The second that he entered through that door to their room, Tony grabbed the God of Chaos by her shirt to slam her against the hard wall as he rose upon his toes to assault her lips with a searing kiss.  
  
What sanity he may have had left after his bizarre life and personality traits was utterly drained by the constant tormenting and teasing upon the bus. Of course, it was busy. Of course she sat upon his lap. And every bump on the road was amplified by her expert grinding and squirming, all the while she played the perfect innocent tourist as his mind unraveled with every movement on his aching throbbing manhood.

Hence, why he assaulted her like a wild animal in heat by the time they reached the room, and after that door clicked shut, he gave into his base urges to explore that body that had been teasing him and tormenting him for so long.

Avengers be damned and Asgard could go fuck itself. Tony Stark was going to have what he wanted.  
  
A smoky low cooed sound escaped the sultry woman as she met his probing kiss with a lascivious languid lust, and when he sidled his hands along her sides to hike up the shirt as he explored her mouth, she slid her hands down to grope along his backside. Not just a squeeze, she gripped the twin globes of muscle and kneaded them like a cat. Each squeezing rub made him arch his hip to grind against her even as he rose higher upon his toes.

Silvertongue was an appropriate name, Tony discovered, because Loren… no… LOKI certainly knew how to use it. The nimble dart and tease, the force and twisting with his own: kissing became less of a greeting of lips and more of a battle much as they did with metal and tactics, magic and science.  
  
Tony wasn’t aware of when he had been picked up, or carried across the floor, but when he was dropped to the bed with a bounce, he became utterly aware of the change in their position. Staring up to the woman whom closed in to bracket her arms over his shoulders to brace herself, long ink black hair fell in a wild draping of a curling curtain past her shoulders, and those burning green eyes locked and seared with the inventor’s own. Those lovely features were vulnerable in their need and desire, a terribly consuming want overtook the mask of even the most clever of deceivers.  
  
Raw, honest, and open… Loki wanted Tony Stark.  
  
And it was the most erotic thing the hero had ever seen in his life.  
  
“I want you… so much, baby...” Tony murmured as he pressed his hands forward to run them along that sleek smooth body, coaxing the trickster to lean back, to sit straddled over him. With a greedy voracious wonder, the mischievous mortal rode that shirt higher until he peeled it free.  
  
Ruby lips drew into a temptress’ smile as Loki, pleased as a cat with it’s mouse, arched her back like a sculpture of a grecian nymph while she was shucked of her shirt. Breasts thinly clad in green were revealed, poised and stirring with her slightly deepened breaths. A sharp black manicured nail traced over Tony’s cheek, a tender movement as she caressed along his jaw.  
  
“Tell me, Man of Iron. Tell me how much you long for me.”  
  
“Since you’ve been teasing me so much, how couldn’t I?” With a sudden tug and shift of his hips, the bed’s coverlet rustled as Tony rolled their bodies over with an adamant tumble, grinning wildly to the god below him as he nestled between long sensuous thighs. Reverently, eagerly, the amorous man settled his hands to cup those rounded breasts with warm fingers bearing surprising gentleness despite the callouses of his trade.  
  
”I wanted you for a while… I think I just really realized it...” Tony continued as he leaned down to tease tender soft kisses and nips against that sculpted alabaster jaw, trailed along the long neck slowly as he littered adorations between his words. “...that night you ‘helped’ me after my return to action as Iron Man.” Shamelessly, Tony lathed his tongue against the dip of the clavicle before he suckled at the tender spot of her throat just above that with the voracity of a vampire until he felt that pulse race against his tongue, then released with an obscene pop. To his delight, he could hear Loki’s voice deepen, becoming more raw as she breathed a bit more heavily.  
  
“You were not… repulsed… by my male form?” There! Desire, hope, insecurity: a dangerous cocktail… one that could either be the finest Margarita or Molotov depending on the outcome.  
  
With a pause to raise his head, mischievous brown eyes locked upon the sorcerer’s green as he shifted slowly, slightly to slide down her body slightly, trailing exploring kisses and licks along the way.  
  
“Babe… I feel like I’m getting a two for one, deal, here. How can I not be excited?”  
  
Such sweet tender words were ruined of their innocent honesty as he suddenly assaults one of those fabric captive breasts with his mouth. Lathing his tongue over the thin clad flesh, he rounded in maddening circles as he felt the lump of her nipple perk… and JUST when he began to feel the body beneath him squirm, he sealed his lips and suckled, hollowing his cheeks as he flicked that tender tip with an erratic flogging of his tongue.  
  
Loki may have been the Silvertongue… but Tony Stark was THE infamous playboy of Earth… and his skills in pleasuring women were well past the point of legendary in modern culture. Probably part of the reason he hadn’t been sued for sexual harassment more than he had.  
  
Loki bore the fruits of his skill, and it seemed that the sorcerer heartily approved judging by the hissing and erratic writhing... and the hand that threaded through the messy brown locks to cup his scalp, a silent command for MORE.

Releasing that captive bud Tony, turned his head to assail the other in a similar building process, letting his calloused fingers delve under the sodden material to toy and tease that tenderized fleshy bud he’d just so recently abused.

“Yes...” Loki hissed as her other hand dropped to claw at Tony’s back, delirious in carnal delight. When the inventor hummed a sound of surprise about the nipple entrapped within his mouth,  she raked sharp nails that tore through the fabric of his shirt to leave stinging trails that forced Tony to arch and gasp in surprise.

He knew extracurricular play with Loki could be dangerous, but holy cow! And the worst (or best part) was that the hedonistic genius’ body LOVED it.  
  
It took a moment for the inventor to regather his wits before he flicked his tongue to expertly worm under the thin emerald material in slithery exploration before he tugged it downward with his teeth to free the sweetly swelled rosy gumdrop of flesh. The man wasted no time to assail it with a voraciously vicarious intensity with his tongue after it was captured it between his teeth carefully. Sealing his lips, he suckled upon the flesh with low growls and he SWORE the slowly unhinging sorcerer intended to claw her way to his spine to rip it out.  
  
It only spurred him onward, to massage those trim hips as he pulled taut upon that plump flesh between his lips before released it with a loud lewd pop. Smirking like the wicked rapscallion he was, the engineer stared down to those widened lust bright eyes locked upon his own… and much to his smug pride, a hint of colour graced the deity’s pale cheeks.  
  
“You filthy little creature...” Loki hissed with a sibilant tone: words low, ragged and laced with a husky danger that made Tony’s trapped length throb and twitch with determined insistence. Sharp nails dug into his scalp little stinging pinpoints as she gripped his hair, making the mischievous grin widen on the hedonistic mortal’s moist lips. “Don’t you DARE stop!”  
  
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lo.” Tony murmurred as he proceeded to plant more adoring kisses and light bites down that toned trimmed belly, savouring the sight of the firm sleek muscles that slithered sinuously under the wintery flesh. Her taste was just as intoxicating as her scent, and Tony revelled in it, thrilling in how he made her jump and squirm with his little bites.  
  
“I am not fragile, mortal… do not even THINK of holding ba--AHN!”  
  
Tony cut her grousing short with a firmer bite, and he discovered he was not only rewarded with that breathy sound of pleasure and surprise, but also the realization that he didn’t think he could even draw blood from that pliant skin even if he chomped down and shook his head like a dog.  
  
A smothered choked back cry of a sound escaped Loki as Tony dipped his tongue into the divot upon her belly, and it sent the warlord squirming madly. Limber legs writhed and dragged in constant rustling over the sheets as Tony inspected and found some strange odd wonder in the notion of a belly button. That belonged to an alien. And all the while, those mahogany toned eyes were raised to drink in the sight that he, a mere mortal, made out of a god.  
  
Finally, that twitching hand upon his head gripped the dark locks and pullled: an irresistible force that drew Tony’s head away from its bowed position over a now thoroughly glistening navel to meet stormy viridian eyes.  
  
“What’s the matter, Princess… too much for you?” A reckless leer spiced his words as Tony delighted in the noticeably flustered state that the God of Mischief was in. He began to feel inklings of thrilling unease as she matched his leer, somehow looking positively villainous.  
  
“Oh, hardly, my dear little Mortal.” Low sultry purred words of promise and threat escaped those claret lips before they begin to move, forming words beyond his understanding, sounds of an ancient language that raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck and sent his reactor humming in recognition… an eerie feeling filled the room even before green flowed from those long fingered hands to weave arcane tendrils of magic into the air.  
  
“Loki, what are you doing?” Tony raised his head slightly to peerup to the walls as the magic infused into them to create a faint exotic luminous shimmer upon the surfaces.  
  
“Oh, I am casting a silencing spell upon the walls so that no sound may escape.” Vulgarly predatorial was the sharp smile and hungry the stare this dark beauty settled upon the smaller man, one promising things that sendt shivers down Tony’s spine and he didn’t even KNOW what she intended. Yet. “I will make you scream and beg, you see, and I would rather not be disturbed as a result of noise complaints.”  
  
Tony’s balls throbbed heartily in response, making the man arch his hips slightly like a horny dog at merely the that thought voiced deliciously vulgar in that cultured voice. The normally unflappable genius gasped low words. “Oh my god...”  
  
“Yes… worship me.” Loki purred as she arched her hips to slowly, deliberately grind against the tautly strained mortal balanced over the supple minx’s form. That compact tight toned form shuddered generously over the seductress beneath, and despite Tony’s best intentions, a ragged groan escaped him. Threat? Oh HELL no, this, Tony was going to take as a challenge!  
  
“Well...” Drawled the mad mortal as he sidled a little further along Loki’s belly to trail his tongue along before he settled a bite upon the defined bone of the woman’s pelvis,”...if that is what you want...” trailed his hands along those smooth supple thighs before he slowly, deliberately parted them wider “...I might as well give it to you.” A hitched breath betrayed the god as she stared with intensely burning eyes as she propped herself up upon her elbows to hungrily observe as the shameless mortal trailed soft chaste kisses along her bikini covered skin with a slow maddening tease. Her breath quickened loudly in anticipation as the mad mortal began to tease with his lips just at the waist band and moved southward toward a noticeably darker green spot betraying her moist excitement. This enraptured the engineer for a moment, to stare, wonder about this altered body beneath him. And as he stared, the spot between the spread thighs grew as taut muscles twitched beneath his hands that held them wide.  
  
“I’ve been wondering…” Stark whispered with a hot brush of his breath against the dampened fabric that evoked a strong twitch under his hands” how much of a lady you’ve made yourself. I mean… your breasts are certainly real enough…” His words died away, became muffled as he trails his lips lower between her thighs, and he nearly found himself bucked off as the sorceress arched with a cry. He began to mouth that thinly clad mound, explored the shapes he could feel through the swimsuit, and as his tongue delved to press that pliant material lewdly into decidedly real folds. And she responded with very real reactions, twitched and gasped as he lathered and slathered in exploration and drank in her taste. Again, JUST as real, even a bit sweet. Tony Stark found himself vastly intrigued.  
  
He’d rendered the Silvertongue unintelligible, at least, devoid of the capacity for English, because she seemed to hiss and gasp words in a foreign tongue as she kneaded his scalp like a compulsive overgrown cat as he continued shamelessly to tongue molest her through that thin lycra. The material soaked a darker forest hue with the combination of his saliva and her eager nectar… just as real as any other woman Tony has had the amusement in pleasuring in such a manner, and yet, she tasted almost like a dessert treat with that hint of sweetness.  
  
With a slip of his arms under those twitching long thighs, he lifted her up to plant her spread legs over his shoulders and provided him sinfully easier access to her most tender parts and once his probing tongue discovered that fleshy pearl, he assaulted it mercilessly with suckles and battering with his exploring muscle.  
  
Tony knew he MUST have been doing something right, because of the sound of that the smoky lovely voice that roundly cursed him out in her native tongue… and the only way he knew she was swearing a blue streak in conjuncture with HIM was in how often ‘Stark’ was attached in the desperate yet demanding lines of expletives.  
  
It made him a little proud of himself, really. And aroused. Painfully aroused.  
  
Without hesitating, he bit the material to tug it aside before he lapped her folds like a shameless dog that greedily enjoyed its treat. The genius marvelled how smooth and supple the flesh was before he delved to ravish deeper with loud moist slurps that lewdly mingled with Loki’s breathless vocalization. More! He wanted to utterly unhinge this ravenous creature! Tony worked with a chaotic mad frenzy and unpredictable wild licks, flicks and suckles. He, a mere mortal was driving a god to madness, tearing their mind and body apart, and he was doing it with his mouth. Well, Pepper DID say it was always getting into trouble.  
  
This was actually literally.  
  
Loki’s cry sung like an exotic bird as she wailed in pleasure in her climax, that limber displayed body convulsed and shuddering like a frog with electricity burst through it as she gripped Tony’s shirt and tore it from his back adorned with deliciously stinging lines. Such a crude compulsive act was accompanied with the lewd sound of tearing cloth… and he growled in delight at the sheer primal savage nature of this tender act with this god. For once, the fear and hesitation of his arc reactor bared and shining vulnerably was nothing to him. He nearly lost control right then and there with painfully aching need throbbed hard and insistent in his groin.  
  
As he pushed himself up with low pants escaping moist slightly swollen lips, Tony dank in the sight of Loki sprawled with delicious quivers that trembled lewdly sprawled limbs. Freed breasts bobbed with her heaving breaths that left the defining forms of her ribs glided over by supple faintly flushed skin. Beautifully debauched. As he crawled up over her body, Tony pressed his lips to those parted claret tiers in a sensual yet soft kiss laced with a lingering tenderness that share her flavour and flaunted his victory.

“Anyone tell you you’re fucking gorgeous when you’re like this?” With a roll of his hips, he pressed his demanding groin between those spread thighs. Much to his amusement, they quivered… and much to his pleasure, it felt so VERY good to grind against that wet dripping sex he’d just so recently lapped like a mad dog. “I could cum just watching you come undo-whoah!”  
  
Surprise escaped Tony in a yelp as the being beneath him suddenly twisted like a predator and tore the remainder of his shirt scraps from his body before Tony found himself pressed down on his back upon the mattress by an utterly irresistible force. Primally hunger and lust adorned the face of this temptress enthroned upon him. Like a goddess of lust, Loren was illuminated a magical blue white from his arc reactor, and above him, he could feel that body shift, change as Loki returned to his male form.  
  
Tony’s heart raced, and as a wicked leer graced the Trickster’s features, he KNEW that Loki can felt his trapped length twitch in eagerness.  
  
“Your worship is most pleasing to me, Mortal...” Loki purred before he dipped his head lower to suckle hard against the inventor’s throat, purposefully rubbing his tongue over the tenderizing flesh as he worked it to a maddening oversensitivity that made the precocious mortal squirm. Then it was released slowly to leave a tell tale merlot toned mark just under Tony’s jaw where it would be difficult to conceal. “I believe that you should be rewarded.”

Like a caged canary on speed, Tony’s heart fluttered swiftly and frantically behind his arc reactor as the sorcerer began to suckle a slow meandering path down along his chest. Long ebon locks teased and tickled against his bared sweat clammy flesh and creating a maddening curtain where Tony could not SEE what was happening, but, oh, he could feel it.

The mortal yelped, bucking as he scrabbled to grip those long curling locks as a sudden pinch greeted one of his nipples, and oh, how deliciously he writhed as that tender bud was captured within a hot mouth and subjected to hard suction before the other was assaulted in such a manner that he could SWEAR must have been drawing blood.  
  
When that famed tongue abandoned those tender buds to trail along the sensitive scarred skin that made the terrain of the insatiable inventor’s chest, it shot wild sizzling sensation throughout the mortal and short circuited his brain into an endless loop of ‘oh my god’s and ‘yes’es. His mind completely disintegrated into white hot burnthrough when that silvertongue greeted he puckered flesh that surrounded his arc reactor and began to make one slow wet circuit where metal met man.  
  
Nearly agonizing pleasure raced through the inventor before he bucked in an unexpected suddenness with a loud howl, back bowed as the battle honed human’s body was captured in a long spasming moment where he tensed and trembled precariously beneath the God of Mischief before the mortal slumped bonelessly with rapid gulped pants.  
  
Said Trickster blinked as he raised his head to stare to the smaller male under him with a priceless look of surprise where he noted the flushed pleasured look upon the mortal. Shamelessly, a long finger delved past the band of Tony’s shorts, and the mortal moaned softly, lolling his head aside as he endured in a pudding-like state.  
  
“My my… it seems you have regained your vigor.”  
  
Fucking premature ejaculation.  
  
Had Tony been in a more clear state of mind, he’d have been annoyed, ashamed… all manner of flustered. But instead, he settled for post pleasure bliss.  
  
The engineer groaned softly as reaching up to loosely drape his arm over Loki’s shoulders before he chuckled.  
  
“Oh… I used to be able to go all night long. Had a playboy bunny nickname me ‘rabbit’. At least I don’t have to use my medicine anymore...” The amiable lucid grin faltered upon Tony’s lips as he stared up to the man who watched down at him with predatorial eyes. “...Loki… that look doesn’t inspire me with any modicum of ease.”  
  
“My dear little mortal… I am inclined to see how much of your legendary vigor remains.”  
  
“Uh… you’re gonna have to give me a moment here. Refractory period and all of that.”  
  
When Loki wrenched his cum filled shorts open in a loud tear with a devilish leer, Tony began to have a sinking feeling.  
  
And when that legendary mouth of the Liesmith enclosed around the sticky softened length, all Tony could know was truth. A consuming raw, undeniable truth.  
  
That this deity desired this mortal with a holy persistence, and said divinity was going to do what he damn well wanted, even if it involved miracles.  
  
Because a miracle could only explain how Loki’s tongue alone raised the dead and it took mere seconds for Tony to arch, gasp, and throb in hardness.

  
“Holy fucking GOD!”

~~~

From the bliss of empty unconsciousness, Tony was only vaguely aware of something that chirped at him with a merry melody.

  
No. That early in the morning, cheery melodies should NOT have been allowed.  
  
Neither should the damned sun that glowed through the windows.  
  
Without raising his head, the inventor’s hand slithered like a snake that picked through the grass to find it’s prey of a field mouse, and once his fingers captured the firm form of his phone stuck within the nest hole that could only be described as a disembodied pocket, he pressed the button to answer.  
  
“Mwa muh mehn nmu mu mahn?”  
  
Oh, right. He forgot something. The exhausted genius raised his head to lift his face from the pillow. Stings that really shouldn’t have been so delicious and aches that he really shouldn’t have been so proud of greeted his neck and shoulders from that one little movement.  
  
The inventor reiterated into the phone his morning greeting.  
  
“What the hell do you want?”  
  
A pause returned him from the other side before Shelby’s cheerful voice greeted him.  
  
“Good Morning Mr. Stark!”  
  
“Tony...” His name was groaned, sounding akin to a zombie’s sigh.  
  
“I wanted to let you know that your guest, Mr. Odinson enjoyed his stay at the Riverside Port Orleans last night, but after he got this morning’s paper, he seemed kind of… unsettled and worried. And on the scale of One to Ten, I’d put him at somewhere between climbing the walls and tearing his way into our landmark castle.”  
  
It took Tony’s sluggish mind a minute to comprehend the words, and though while half he understood, the first half was a mystery to him. Papers? Oh, must be some Avenger news or something. He was half tempted to roll over and tell Shelby to get Thor lost at the Swiss Family Robinson tree house…  
  
But Thor was bull headed enough to come in on his own, and by on his own, that meant Mjolnir.  
  
And Mjolnir plus Disney Landmark equaled very VERY bad.  
  
“Just give us ten minutes before bringing him up, all right, Shel? Gotta find my brain. Think I left it in my other pants...”

“Sure thing, Mr Stark.”  
  
“Thanks, kiddo. You’re the best.”  
  
Dropping the phone to the floor with a dull clatter, Tony breathed a low groan before he mustered the willpower to push himself up with a grimace as he finally unpeeled his eyes open, instantly regretting it.  
  
Tony Stark and the iconic drunken hangover were old friends, acquaintances who’d woken up together more in his bed than he had even with Pepper.  
  
But that wasn’t the source of his abused weary state… and certainly not whom was in his bed.  
  
As realization returned to the shameless hedonist and as he pushed himself to sit up with a slight wince, his poor overly abused balls throbbed in protest. Hell, even his common morning wood decided to call in dead that fine beginning of a day.  
  
It was a marvellously good feeling, such aches reminded him of a livid lurid night filled with shameless debauchery between him and a god (HIS god), and by god, he came FOUR times.

No wonder why his poor testicles felt bruised and swollen.

Admittedly that last time was actually a bit forced, and the time before that decidedly strained. It was still a marvellous thing to take pride in, and he KNEW he was getting his mojo back. Of course, Loki was a pure demon in bed, a brutally cunning incubus, and Tony could feel every scratch, every bite, every sensitively overly suckled hickey spot on his body. And the mind blowing part, was neither of them breached the other despite their hedonistic rodeo. That, he suspected, Loki intended to cherish in the comfort of the tower.  
  
He feels so deliciously USED.  
  
As he turned slightly to peer to the pale figure beside him, the inventor couldn’t help but smile softly. That unmarred porcelain skin hugged the lean deadly honed form like a hunting cat’s. Wild long ebon hair pooled in mussed disarray over both skin and sheets, spilled over the pillow. Those cunning features were settled into a rare peaceful repose… strangely sweet and younger looking. Hell, had he been human, Tony suspected he would hardly be out of his early twenties or late teens: full of many life lessons to conquer on the rocky grounds of growing up.  
  
A sinuous long arm was slung protectively over Tony’s waist to holding him possessively, protectively. Even in sleep, Loki jealously guarded his prized mortal. That thought nestled warmly in the vicinity of the gentle hum of his arc reactor, and brought a soft smile to Tony’s lips.  
  
Despite the stiffness and aches, he turned with a soft rustle of the sheets to his personal deity and leaned closer to tease a soft kiss to Loki’s temple as his hand trailed along the smooth back. Fingertips traced along the knobby contours of the sorcerer’s spine as the deity merely grumbled slightly then burrowed deeper into the pillow. Tony’s fingers paused as they encounter the strap along Loki’s back from the bikini top that STILL adorned the male shifter.  
  
It seemed that the Aesir plans to sink back into sleep and ignore Tony.  
  
Oh, no. No one ignored Tony Stark.  
  
SNAP!  
  
With a hissed yelp, Loki’s body arched from the unexpected sting along his spine from the strap’s sudden snap, and instantly Tony regretted his prank as the mad god kicked him off of the bed to the floor like a naughty puppy that nipped his toes.  
  
Still, Tony laughed as he watched the weary ravished looking sorcerer blink as he rubbed one of those elegant hands over his eyes in a remarkably boyish unguarded gesture.  
  
“I should flay you alive for that, mortal.”  
  
“Look, I know I’ve got gorgeous skin, Lo, but your bro...”  
  
THAT dirty look snapped the inventor back into awareness of his words.  
  
“-ken headed fellow god is going to be coming up one way or another in a few minutes. Thought we might spare him the aneurysm.”

The look Loki settled upon Tony… equal parts grumpy and speaking ‘can’t damage the damaged’, betrayed that the sorcerer was NOT a tiger to tangle with after a surprise wake-up in the morning.  
  
Leaning closer, the engineer brushed a gentle kiss to the deity’s cheek. That softened the sour expression. “Look, why don’t you go clean up, take a luxuriant soak in the bath.”

Loki enwreathed himself into an air of deep ponderance, a thoughtful look adorned elegant features. A sign that Tony would come, in time, to be very wary of. Slowly, the sensuous creature rose with a boneless grace that should have been disallowed that early in the morning. The sveldt creature slunk closer like a predator before he enveloped the bruised and deliciously abused genius in those long possessive arms.“While I ponder how I will thoroughly ravish your mortal backside?”Damn him! Damn that silver tongued devil!

“Ah… about that...”

“How I’ll rut into you until you beg?”

Despite himself, these words began to stir a giddiness in Tony, an exotic erotic mingling of fear and anticipation as those spidery long fingers glided down the human’s sides to massage the globes of his backside, massaging the smaller male’s protests away with surprising efficiency.

“Oh… wow...”  
  
“With my size…” Loki slithered silken whispers against Tony’s ear, nibbling the soft fleshy lobe as he pried the twin spheres of muscle apart to expose that tight pucker to the cool air in vulnerability. A low yelp escaped Tony as a cool finger touched the quivering rosy ring, making it twitch and clench.

“...and your tight, small mortal body…” The devil cooed with sinful words that slithered into Tony’s ear then transmuted into liquid heat in the human’s chest before gathering to pool in his aching loins. Around and around and around that finger trailed to build a maddening sense of unpredictable inevitability that mirrored his words of erotic promise.

  
“...I will be leaving your passage GAPING like an explored cave for days.”  
  
Bruised balls give a gut curling throb that brought a quavered broken moan to the playboy as Loki painted a purely illegal errotic image into the genius’ fertile mind that had overridden even Tony’s minute common sense.  
  
It was’t until the smirking deity slunk into the bathroom with a devious leer to the teased mortal and the door closed that the magic-less spell of the sorcerer’s enchantment broke upon Tony. Groaning low, the tortured mortal cupped his hands over his cock that half heartedly began to twitch into arousal despite the previous night’s abuse and his balls hung like heavy swollen pulsing hot stones.  
  
“I never agreed to that!” Called the engineer through the door: flustered, frustrated, and REALLY not amused.  
  
Deciding that distraction was in order, Tony peered about the room.  
  
Tattered bits of clothing adorned the room like gaudy confetti. Well, Loki’s clothing was in relatively good condition, however, Tony was beginning to wonder if the god DELIGHTED in tearing into his mortal like a child does a present at Christmas, to gleefully rend the covering in the process. He’d need to learn to not wear his favourite shirts around the God of Chaos.  
Rising stiffly, Tony staggered like a foal as he began to collect the bits of their unrestrained passion from around the room, carefully folding over the pleasure stained sheets to hide the evidence from view before the engineer managed to tug on a pair of shorts and a shirt. He hissed slightly as the soft material rubbed over the linear gashes across his back, a tender reminder of his crazy alien… what… guest? Lover?

Apparently there was a more important matter at hand. Trouble.

The storm that brewed outside should have been a clue.

The torrential downpour that hammered the windows as Thor entered the room should have been a sign.  
  
But it was when Thor dropped a folded newspaper before Tony who sat at the table with a cup of coffee steaming between the engineer’s hands, that the genius began to comprehend the notion.  
  
And when brown eyes fell upon the photograph that filled the front page of Tony kissing a princess style Loren in a heartfully romantic fairy tale image upon the cover… only to then trail upward to stormy blue eyes of the unforgivingly scowling Thunderer… Tony fully understood what ‘Wrath of the Gods’ truly meant.  
  
“Man of Iron...”  
  
“Before you ask, no, I didn’t play ‘hide the scepter’ with the princess.” As blond brows furrowed, Tony elaborated carefully, lacing truth heavily into his words. “I did not ‘penetrate’ Loren. Calm down, big guy.”  
  
Slowly, with an effort of will, Thor slowly sat, though muscles were tight with a prominent bulge under his skin in an ominous fashion. He was obviously mistrustful of Tony, but he believed him. That was why he was asking first before acting.  And, boy… was the Engineer lucky. He WAS telling the truth. He’d passed out before they could get past third base.  
  
“Do not think to use… her… for your own amusements, Man of Iron. I do not wish to see her hurt by your carelessness.”  
  
“Look… Loren is a sweet girl behind her mischief and penchant for wicked things. She makes me comfortable and happy, and I make her happy, it seems. It’s mutually beneficial. And knowing how selfish we BOTH are, do you really think either of us are going to give up something essentially useful to us any time soon?”  
  
He couldn’t have thst conversation… not with Thor of all people. Then again, it would have been even harder if Loki was here. Oh, he KNEW that would set the sorcerer’s teeth on edge and loose some particularly venomous words to the blond warrior.  
  
“Look, I have NO intention of hurting her...”  
  
“When you die, it will devastate her if she becomes too attached.” Thor grumbled, and there was an eerie wisdom to his words...a strange KNOWING that spoke of a hidden track record.  
  
Now, more than ever, Tony was beginning to wonder about Loki’s hidden ‘family life’. Sweet mercy, WAS he married?  
  
The last thing he wanted was a pan galactic episode of Maury Povich with an alien princess chasing after him demanding his balls for infidelity. Would be a monumental day for TV ratings, though.  
  
But, wait… Thor wasn’t claiming Loki… or ‘Loren’... wasn’t being led into cheating on a spouse. Rather, this was about not BEGINNING a relationship.  
  
With a deep breath drawn, Tony sat back and stared to the brooding worried warrior, a deeply concerned brother, and the engineer mulled over how to prevent the situation from turning catastrophic.  
  
“Look, Thor. She and I discussed this. One day at a time. Just enjoy it as it comes. The length of time doesn’t matter as much as the QUALITY of it.” Drawing a deep breath, Tony bracketed the cup of coffee in his hands before he sipped it and  peered first to the steam rising from the brown surface before he met the troubled sapphire hues of his fellow Avenger.  
  
“I’m a genius, Thor. I know she can’t keep running and hiding forever. I know that the shit she did will catch up, and I know that either her dad, or whoever she was working for, or SHIELD, or SOMEONE will eventually get her. Hell, I think she knows this. But, in the meantime, I’m giving her something positive to hold onto, and she’s doing the same. She WANTS to break out of the furrow she’d fallen into. That’s why she’s doing that project… and helping people here and there. She’s growing to like, maybe love, this world. Now, do you want me to drop her, let her fall and hit rock bottom, or do you want me to support her, Thor?”  
  
Put that way, it was a question that would be cruel to answer in the negative, and Thor knew this judging by the sheepish look of troubled resignation.  
  
“Then watch over her, Man of Iron, and I shall aid you in what ways that I can. However, should you break her heart… or outrage her modesty...” The warrior prince’s words trailed off in a low rumble echoed by thunder that resonating with a hum of Mjolnir at his side. “There shall be no mercy.”  
  
Over protective brother. Check.  
  
Good to know.  
  
“Oooookay… Gotcha. So, Thor… You’re the God of Thunder and Cockblocks. Anything else?”  
  
“Thor IS the God of Fertility, Tony. A lesser known fact in your world, these days.” Came the purred, almost amused tone from the doorway, and both men turned to look to Loren clad in a pair of black capris and a shirt depicting the Evil Queen of Snow White. And Thor was worried about what Tony would do to Loki?!  
  
Said God was currently an interesting shade of flushed, somewhat embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck, knowing…. KNOWING the irony of the situation.  
  
“Fertility, huh? Something I should know, here?” Tony teased, however, he found a surprisingly wary look shifted to Loren who bore the good grace to slip in and sit down gracefully in the chair beside Tony. however, as those elegant long fingers plucked the newspaper to draw closer, aloof bemused annoyance melted into something warmer. A fond smile.  
  
“It is a title I have born due to an aspect of my powers to encourage crops to grow well, harvests to be bountiful, cattle to breed strong and readily, and to assist in matters regarding boosts in fertility and virility.”  
  
“Oh, my, how beneficial.” Loren remarked coolly as she absently read over the newspaper. “Perhaps you might aid Tony… he has been having issues with his virile essence after his medical emergency.”  
  
Mercifully, Thor wasn’t in the least bit offended when the inventor spewed his coffee in a spray of surprise, choking and gasping for air as the shameless woman proceeded to dab his face with a napkin.  
  
“Ah huk… Lo….dammnit...”  
  
Even as Thor casually wiped the brown dampness upon his shirt, he stared to Tony with minglings of concern, surprise, and sympathy. And oddly, relief.  
  
It was humiliating to Tony Stark, legendary playboy of Midgard.  
  
“Nope nope NOPE. I’m fine, my junk’s fine… well, maybe my balls are a little sor--NO, I’m FINE. Moving along!”

  
With a breath drawn deep, Tony steamrolled into another topic.  
  
“So, we’re officially christening the Avenger Tower soon, and it’s going to be on Halloween to make it a fun spectacle and a date even I can remember.” Upon the blank look coming from both, the enterprising human continued. “Y’know… Halloween? Earth holiday to drive away bad spirits and scary things by dressing up as scary things, heroic figures, or legendary beasts?” As  realization dawned upon Loren’s face, the mortal thanked his lucky stars that one of them understood cultural relativity.  
  
“Ah, so a shamanic festival day?”  
  
“Something like that. But in these days it’s mostly a costume party and people going door to door threatening to trick if they’re not given treats...” As Loren’s face lit up in delight, Tony grinned in amusement, and Thor showed signs of growing wonder and interest. “And then, it’s always a huge feast.” Ah, yes… THAT brought a broad smile to the Thunder God’s face.  
  
“How thrilling! I will be honored to partake in this Hallowed Eeen! When you say dressing as legendary beasts… such as a bilgesnipe?”  
  
Tony swiftly interceded. “Uh, that lizardy thing? Sorta… but, y’know, maybe you could talk to Barton. He’s got a secret thing for Cosplay. No doubt he can hook you up with something awesome.”  
  
“Cosplay?” Loren inquired with genuine curiosity.

 

“Y’know the costumed people that have been beginning to swarm around the building?”  
  
“Ah, I thought them to be idolizing worshippers to the ‘Avenger’ warriors.”  
  
Tony’s lips quirk slightly, wryly. “That’s close enough.”

~~~

Tony Stark was a step father. Well, in the theoretical sense. Since the addition of Thor to their vacation, the inventor hadn’t failed to notice how Loren mothered the Thunder God… coaxing and chastising, and Tony felt like he was beginning to take on a more fatherly role to a really, REALLY dangerous boy.  
  
Thor looked happy.  
  
Hell, even Loren looked happy.  
  
And even Tony had to admit that he was somewhat enjoying their strange little family, hence he didn’t call Fury to collect their electric companion.  
  
And like a clingy kid, Tony and Loki couldn’t continue a bit of exploration with him around. Thor squawked (rumbled, really) about Loren and Tony sharing one of the two beds in the room, until Thor woke up to Tony living a vicious nightmare laden PTSD attack beside him, and he could immediately see the soothing effect the dark haired woman had on the engineer that sunk into peace at her side.  
  
Upon their return Tony learned, via an arrow with a head carved of Himalayan salt rock dipped in lime juice that landed shallowly but painfully in his ass, that Barton saw the headlining news about the budding fairytale romance.  
  
It took a week before Tony could walk without a limp. Of course, it was so VERY worth it to see both Thor AND Barton nearly go atomic when Loren would affectionately place a nursing kiss upon his his wound.  
  
If only they knew that the sadistic guest enjoyed groping that sore spot and making Tony yelp and squirm.  
  
The news seemed to have been taken by the other Avengers… reasonably well. Steve merely shared a knowing smile and stated he noticed the signs long before then, Natasha simply settled Tony a flat look as she handed Loren a collar and leash before crisply commanding her to keep him out of trouble. And Fury… well, Fury was pretty quiet. Which was an unsettling thing to consider. Pepper, for her part, approved heartily how much good Loren was doing for Tony’s public image, and personal well being. Hell, she’s noticed before HE had that since Loren, he hasn’t been nose deep in his drinking, deadly driving, or partying habits.  
  
It was a crisp cooling morning in late October as Tony sat on the steps to the tower beside Natasha remaining silent as she observed with attentive eyes the growing throng of people around the Angel of New York carving on the rock. Some were well wishers, some were respectful of the remembered. Some were appreciators of the carvings in the stone in admiration of art for art’s sake.  
  
And many, OH so many, were the massive brightly garbed fan club of the Avengers AND ‘Loki’s Army’, his odd growing fandom. Apparently the God of Chaos had decreed their respect for the valiant lost, and thus they obeyed like happy minions.  
  
But there were a few individuals that her trained eye could detect that moved with less than spiritual, academic, or amusement minded notions. Those wandered amidst the fold… wolves among sheep. They were hunting. Watched. Waited. Talked into sleeves.  
  
“Y’know, Tasha… I’ve been thinking.”  
  
“I’ll call Fury to let him know to prepare for collateral damage.”  
  
“Har har. Y’know, you really shouldn’t have given Loren that collar and leash.”  
  
An arch brow lifted elegantly as the assassin turned her eyes to the man beside her.  
  
“Objections to the implications?”  
  
“No, it’s just that Thor’s been up my ass with training and ‘shield brotherly bonding’… and I know, I KNOW he’s been breaking shit so that I have to chew up more of my free time fixing stuff.”  
  
That devious smirk that graced the beautiful killer’s lips earned a wry nonplussed look from Tony.  
  
“So then it doesn’t bother you to think that you might have that collar around your throat, with the leash to it in her hand to tug as she pleases?”  
  
With Tony’s lips parted, he blinked… staring to the dangerously cunning women before he narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger.  
  
“Oh, I see what you’re doing. You can’t make me blush, you crass thing. Tony Stark wrote the book on kinky. Hell, I appended, updated, and revised several editions.”  
  
“I was your PA… I recall all too well.”  
  
Silence settled between the two before the assassin turns slightly to sit facing the building, back to the crowd peering upon them.

“Can you tell me why Pepper has been digging into researching the Mutant organizations and particularly the new bill in the works regarding them?”

Tony’s eyebrows raised as he jerked his head back slightly, staring to the woman beside him before he shifted a cautious look around him.  
  
“How much does Fury know?”  
  
“Less than I do.” Natasha replied smoothly, calmly with a deceptive casual aplomb. “Though, it would be of interest to him to find out you have been harboring a mutant.”  
  
“So… why haven’t you told him anything?” Tony inquires as he straightens slightly.

“Because I am an Avenger. Not SHIELD… not any more. I work with Nick, but apart from that, my priority is to our family of misfits.”

A faint smirk quirked at the corner of Tony’s lips. “Island of Misfit Toys. Always room for one more.”  
  
She nodded, settling her gaze upon Loren who tapped industriously upon the stone with an immeasurable patience.  
  
“I will give her a chance. One. In my summation, she has prioritized you to the point of being a beneficial asset.”  
  
To this, the inventor grinned, holding his arms wide. “I’m Tony Stark, Baby! And yeah, I’ll be the first to say her asset is SO beneficial...”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Natasha breathed a faint laugh before she sunk to sit down once more beside Tony. She reached out to push his shoulder as a sister would a brother.  
  
“So, Nat… I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Boring Ceremony, yadda yadda, but the party after is going to be the bomb! Got a costume?”  
  
With an irreverent snort, Natasha breathed a soft chuckle. “Yes, unfortunately for Clint, he lost a bet. You are probably going to enjoy this. However, I think you earned your favor back with him by putting Thor’s trust into his hands.”  
  
He grinned grandly. “Yeah, cupid’s arrow was a bit poisoned tipped. But, hey… fair’s fair, and it’s HER choice, not mine, in the end.”  
  
Natasha nodded before peering to Tony skeptically.  
  
“I take it she will join us? Any idea on her outfit?”  
  
“Yup. Not a clue what she’s wearing, though. She can nurse a secret like you wouldn’t believe.”  
  
“I can believe that. And you?”  
  
A wolfish grin graced the mad genius’ face as he shared a devilish look to the assassin. “Oh, it’s scary as hell.”  


~~~

  
The ceremony, resplendent with the Avengers garbed in their heroic finest, was a media sensation event: flowers adorned around the memorial, and Mayors, the President, Pepper Potts, an assortment of top brass not worth remembering and countless forgettable Suits made their speeches. The surrounding streets had been blocked off, and even then, the throng of audience, media, and the loyal fan following showed up in force in a swarm of bodies that spilled out around the corners and rushed into the streets beyond.  
  
Faces upon faces came to see these Gods Among Men (or in Natasha’s case, Goddess), and many great speeches were made. Or, rather, a great many speeches were made. Tony fought the urge to yawn but his suit was mercifully locked prevent him from rocking upon his heels out of sheer boredom. Well, his attention reverted to the talk when it came time to honor of the heroes among the city: the Fire departments, police, soldiers, first responders, emergency workers and the heroic among the civilians. They certainly earned his applause

Throughout, however, General Ross seemed to be searching, glaring, scouring as if he hunted for the missing figure among the assembled heroic lot, and once his eyes meet with Tony’s, the armored man shared a broad grin and a shameless smooched kiss gesture. That cathartically turned the officer several shades of furious. Oh yeah. The Consultant wins EVERY time.  
  
He straightened slightly, however, as Loren was called up. She wore a flowing white dress befitting an angelic goddess as the gossamer gold hinted material captured within the breeze. The inventor couldn’t help but grin grandly as the honored woman refused the token of gratitude, claiming herself unworthy of it.

  
This act of modesty seemed to shoot a buzz into the media and assembled mortals, unaware of the truth intended behind the sentiment. They lauded her modesty. It required Tony to cough into his gauntlet clad hand to conceal a smirk, and beside him, he could observe Thor groaning as he rubbed his hand over his eyes with a mild look of exasperated.  
  
Once back within the comforting confines of the Tower, the team gathered in the newly renovated Avengers common room, and settled to bask in the afterglow of the celebration and rest their feet. Everyone, save Loren. The second she stepped in, she tensed, catching sight of the massive piece of transplanted granite from upstairs: battered and destroyed with tell tale rended craters made by the body of the very villain that brought them together. It was set up as a stylish divider with coloured lights, suspended in heavy duty metal and plexiglass and took on the hues of the slowly shifting coloured light.  
  
Right… he’d forgotten about that.  
  
And judging by Thor’s rather guilty look, obviously the Thunderer came to a similar realization.  
  
She shook out of that unpleasant surprise as Tony took her hand into his and drew her closer to his metal encased body. “Hey, baby, it’s just recycled art. Loki left an impression on us all...”  
  
An irreverent snort escaped Barton before Steve sighed softly. “Tony, that’s really in bad taste.” However, he guiltily raked his fingers through long wheat blond bangs to brush them out of his eyes after he tugged his cowl back. “Even if it IS true.”  
  
“It matters little.” Loren remarked before she turned her gaze to Tony with a smile gracing her lips before she thoughtfully trailed her fingers along his neatly trimmed jaw. “It is merely the past.”  
  
“That’s right, pumpkin.” Grinning, he swat her bottom lightly, earning a choked growl from the other end of the room before he strode with the metallic clanks of his steps to lead Loren to the lift. “C’mon, let’s get dolled up for the party.”  
  
“Give it up, Thor.” Barton sighed. “She’s a fleeting dream neither of us will be able to catch.”  
  
The Norse god dropped his gaze to the archer beside him with a slight furrow of his brows before he sighed softly. “If you attempt to woo her, I will crush your manhood with Mjolnir.”  
  
With a yelp and a clasping of his hands over his groin, Clint squirmed slightly as he raised a shocked look to the Thunderer beside him. “Holy fuck, man! Ow… just….. dude, not cool! Fine fine!” He paused before his eyebrows knitted slightly. “Wait, aren’t you dating an Astrophysicist?”

Thor merely raised a blond brow eloquently. “The same warning applies for her, my friend.”

“Man, with friends like you, who needs ballbusters like Natasha?”  
  
“I’m right here beside you, Clint.” Said ballbuster sighed before she grasped his shirt and tugged to drag him to the lift. 

~~~

Tony should have known he wouldn’t be able to put a fast one over the God of Lies.  
  
He also should have known better than to pull such a stunt so utterly unprepared.  
  
The second Loren saw what Tony had kept hidden, donned without her knowledge, the inventor had well over six feet of towering male Asgardian pinning him down to the bathroom floor, the rubber soles of his boots squeaking against granite as he struggled for purchase and leverage.  
  
Metal gleamed ominously in the light, and brown eyes widened as he beheld the edge of a gleaming blade held in pale long fingered hands with a menacing intent.  
  
“Did you TRULY think that I would be tricked so easily, Stark? That I would allow for you to exert such a WHIM against me?” Smooth deadly calm words were spoken with a tinge of dismay as that blade lowered. A bead of sweat trickled slowly over the tanned flesh where the knife dented his skin just over the mortal’s frantically pounding jugular.  
  
“Loki… Loki…. look…don’t do this! It’s just…”  
  
“I have known all along, my foolish mortal. I knew when you began your plans long ago. So… I prepared myself, and now… there is nothing they can do to save you.”  
  
Fear, vivid lurid alarm raced through the mortal’s body.  
  
A slender hand jerked with deadly precision. Light flashed on steel. A blade hisses across flesh.  
  
A gurgled choked sound escaped the Avenger’s throat as the mad god basked in complete and utter victory as that trapped form beneath him spasmed like a chicken with it’s head cut off: a veritable orgasmic thrill that provoked another draw of the blade, and another until the deed was completely done.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> Revision notes: Thank you all for your continued or new interest in this story. I'm close to getting my editing finished on the last revised chapter, and I'll start having some new chapters for y'all!
> 
>  
> 
> Old Notes:  
> Thank you for your patience and sticking around with me thus far... there's a LOT more mayhem come up.
> 
> I love all of you! All of your comments, your support, it makes me excited to write more, and I'm certainly happy that my brainchild has plenty of people to play with. Hail Hydra to you all. Yes, I am not above planting a meme to see if you fabulous folk read my thank notes, too.
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with an abacus would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des).
> 
> Now, for the GOODIES!!!:
> 
> 1\. 100 Kudos! And Number 100 is The_Rose_Red! Thank you so much for your appreciation. You're golden in my book. Completely Golden!
> 
> 2\. Thor... Is a Derp. But a good meaning one. And an overprotective one. And I'm leaving notions of Thunderfrost for you to decide.
> 
> 3\. What the HELL?! That Ending! Trust me. It's all part of the plan!
> 
> 4\. Sorry about last week... I never got around to put in the afterward tidbits.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Oh look, it's the F word!
> 
> 6\. What Halloween Costumes could YOU picture your favourite Avengers or Villains in?
> 
>  
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> Ditto for Disney Characters.
> 
> And much love for Gary Shandling for being a great sport.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	11. Eleven for Health (Revised)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Halloween takes an unexpected turn by a surprising visitor, and Loki's kids make their appearance on the scene.
> 
> Let's just say Loki holds true to his promise to Tony, and the mortal finds himself ravished senseless, and he has to contend with the next awkward day.
> 
> Also, Loki finds uses for a Stark Phone certainly outside the warranty.
> 
> Thank you to my Beta, 1111, for proofing and helping to edit this beast!
> 
> WARNING: Explicit, and I DO mean, explicit, sex scenes will ensue. It's an extremely hefty amount of reading because there's just so MUCH in this chapter. And so much cum. Fair warning if that makes you squeamish.

Steve was perplexed. He had to blink his eyes to better comprehend what he was seeing, and it only added to his Scarecrow outfit befitting the Wizard of Oz.

Clint was dressed up as a Victorian-era damsel, complete with a glorious red dress, and a dazzlingly gorgeously tight bodice. He actually looked impressively convincing with the makeup and blonde wig of ringlets-- that soured, rueful expression the only detriment.

“Ah… Clint?”

“Don’t mind him, Captain. He’s still sore that Jarvis complimented him so openly.” Purred the figure beside the ‘damsel’ in distress, Natasha pulling a rather elegant vampire in the same ‘vein’ as Anne Rice’s: elegant, sensual, yet bearing a goatee and cane that made her look like a rather dangerous foppish noble. The archer shivered as she teased white-gloved fingers over his throat to brush aside a curling coil of honey toned hair before murmuring in a low, near-illegal whisper. “You make a lovely Mina.”

“Nat, you’re the scariest Dracula. Ever. Hands down.” Clint glanced up to peer to their leader before he rustled in the scarlet satin slightly, fidgeting with a fan in his gloved hands. “Uhm… I think you broke the Cap’s brain...”

“Greetings, my noble Friends! ‘Tis the time for Tricks and Treats!” Thor proclaimed, and immediately all eyes turned to him. Clint, finally, was grinning, ear to ear.

The great God of Thunder was clad in furs: garish yellow ones to make him look like a barbaric beast come to life, a headpiece with pointing ears tipped in black, as well as a rather strange, zigzagging tail. Somehow, the rosy red spots on his cheeks only amplified the grand smile adorning the Thunderer’s face with an almost childlike adorability.

“Uh...” Steve blinked as he stared to the giant yellow ratlike warrior standing before him, looking rather lost. “...still catching up on the culture crisis here. What are you?”

“The Legendary Beast Pikachu! Guardian of Thunder!” Thor bellowed proudly, chest puffed and taking a regal, proud stance.

Natasha dropped her head upon Clint’s partially bared shoulder before her shoulders twitched slightly.

“Lookin’ good, Thor!” The archer called out, holding his hand out for a high five, managing to not get bowled over as Thor returned the gesture merrily. The godly prince was learning more cultural customs, but his strength was still wildly out there.

When the elevator dinged, presenting the new occupant, time suddenly seemed to flow sluggishly as the gathered heroes turned slowly, grins and smiles freezing as their eyes locked upon the sight before them.

Leather whispered as the figure strode forward, golden metal armor clinking with a regal precision in the procession. Twin curved horns gleamed in the light, that telltale helmet utterly unmistakable, and matching well with the elegant attire of their most recent threat upon Midgard.

“Loki...” Captain America managed to choke past his surprise, Hawkeye beside him tensing even as the Black Widow reached towards a hidden pocket with supple instinct and ease.

Thor stares, jaw slightly gaped as his mind attempted to wrap around what his eyes were beholding.

“You weak simpering fools…” The gold and leather clad figure snapped out with a dramatic drawl in posh,elegantly accented words before he straightened, pointing with a dramatic pose to the unprepared gathering of heroes before him. “You will all KNEEL before me!”

Silence settled, a deadly ominous filling of emptiness where not even molecules dared to brush against each other.

“Aren’t you a little short for an evil warlord?” Clint finally remarked, voice somewhat tight.

The horned figure dropped from that pose to groan, reaching up to rub a hand over his face before he pointed to the man in the dress. “Yeah, Bird Brain, thanks for ruining my entrance. Nice dress, by the way. Good to see you showing your true colors. As in all the ones in a bag of Skittles.”

“Tony… I can’t believe you shaved your beard.” Captain America was still somewhat in shock, his mind attempting to puzzle together if the billionaire REALLY had the brass ones to do such a thing in bad taste.

Wait, this was Tony Stark. OF COURSE he did.

“Yeah, that’s Loren’s doing. I’m lucky I survived it.” Said engineer remarked wryly as he reached to rub his smooth-shorn jaw. With a slightly furrow of his eyebrows he recalled the frightening affinity Loki had with a knife, before those shrewd eyes shifted to the pale assassin who seemed to have stolen his very facial hair. Well… nice to know he inspires.

“You’re right, Tony.” Natasha smirked as she began snapping pictures with her phone. “That is pretty scary. I was wondering where your fruit bowl went this morning, too.”

Pausing, Tony turned, peering to Thor who gave him the WEIRDEST of looks… the inventor wasn’t certain how to perceive it. With goofball alien viking gods? Who knows WHAT rattled the big guy’s marbles. Still, he decided to cut off trouble at the pass. “No hugs, Thor. I might put your eye out by accident,” he quickly murmured, before pointing towards the deadly gracefully arching horns. The genius paused however, realizing what the warrior was dressed as, before grinning grandly with a fiendish delight. Dressed as the God of Mischief? It was an unnervingly spot-on resemblance. “Hey, Pikachu? Man, that’s cool beyond words. Good choice, Thor.”

Turning to Clint, he bore a roguish smirk, offering a thumbs up. Sidling closer to the elegantly clad archer, Tony teased him with an exaggerated leer. “Say, why don’t you drop this stiff and come with me? I’ve got a magical staff...”

DING. The sound from the elevator sheared through Tony’s words before the doors hissed open, and the bombastic theme of ‘Shoot to Thrill’ suddenly interrupted the playlist of Halloween music that had been filtering in the Avengers’ lounge. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to the figure making a grand entrance. Hot rod red gleamed in the light, hard metal splashed with bursts of gold, cosmic blue white radiant spots flaring like comet trails with the figure’s movement.

And oh, was it moving: sinisterly short shimmering crimson Daisy Dukes trimmed in gold, and the halter top to match, only further emphasized the telltale dance of the iconic Ironette dancers. WHICH one, though, would be hard to tell by the all too real helmet that covered the woman’s head, but that supple long body moved with shockingly sensual grace despite the heavy boots and gloves.

When the figure came to a stop with a VERY real repulsor held poised mere inches from Tony’s chest, he could only blink and stare into the glowing unreadable eyes of his own mask.

Fuck similar, these WERE his suit parts!

“Oh, WOW, Tony… Ironette? You’re the man. I bet you did this just to make Steve blu-OW!” Clint jittered with a slight dance of surprise as he clamped his hand over the stinging spot on his neck, before turning to aim an accusing stare to the assassin beside him. “You bit me, you pasty leech!” She merely shared an unsettling leer to her partner sporting a dress beside her, revealing delicate but SHARP fangs. Immediately Clint clammed up, feeling an odd shiver slither down his spine.

Steve, of course, was blushing, and Thor was looking VERY oddly unsettled. His expression suspiciously somewhere between knowing and ‘please don’t let this be true’.

Reaching out to grasp the leather lapels of the coat, Tony was drawn with a low soft deliberate creak as the audio-filtered words issued forth from the helmet. “You have been a very, very NAUGHTY villain...”

And presto a-la-jingle, somehow, somewhere, one of those gloved hands flourished: dangling a pair of handcuffs with a menacing metallic gleam that suddenly made Tony aware of how snug his leather pants were. The face mask lifted open to reveal all-too-familiar beautiful features and ruby lips pulled into a crookedly amused smirk. “You need to be punished properly.”

“Loren?!” Clint cried out, shocked and aghast to see the woman he’d come to enjoy amidst their merry band sporting Tony’s colours. Well, yeah, logically, he KNEW he was completely out of the game with her after that kiss picture from Disney World. But it’s become ALL too obvious, presented as it was before him with these disturbingly coordinating costumes.

However, there was ONE thing that went through his mind… looking from the Iron Maiden to the Loki-dressed Tony.

“Hey, Nat… why don’t you lend her your riding crop you use for interrogations, to put in a few karmic licks in for me?”

Rather than planting her elbow into his kidneys already being tenderized by the corset, Natasha swiftly moved to cover Steve’s ears in an effort to protect the completely thunderstruck, wholesome American hero. Gaping as he was like a… well… scarecrow.

Of course, before she could verbally rebuke her partner, Tony tilted his head to shift a decidedly dirty look.

“Clint, I’m NOT Loki, I’m just dressed up as him. Do you really think you’re gonna get your jollies off of seeing me getting punished in his getup?”

“I would find it rather… entertaining.” Loren replied, earning a shocked look from the arguing pair, an exasperated roll of the eyes from Natasha, a still confused look from Steve, and Thor… well, Thor turned several shades of red, contrasting oddly with the yellow pelts and either fighting with himself NOT to say something, or battling to FIND words to formulate.

“Well, looks like things are just as normal as when I left. Happy Halloween, guys.”

The mayhem halted before all eyes turned to the figure standing within the opened elevator doors. Dropping off several bags by the door, Bruce Banner entered, clad in his usual baggy Banana Republics and made festive by a pair of furry ears and a tail. Oddly, the whole ensemble made a decent werewolf, especially with Bruce’s ever-present scruffy stubble.

“Bruce!”

Immediately Tony was at him in a black, gold, and green flash to shamelessly ensnare his fellow scientist in an energetic hug.

“Brucie Bear! The 3.14 to my Pi, the Bosen to my Higgs, the olive to my martini! Let’s make beautiful science babies together again! We should figure out how to build an Einstein-Rosen bridge and ding dong ditch Asgard!”

Mercifully, the subtly disheveled scientist took the now-common familiarity easily in stride, patting Tony’s back while trying to keep from getting injured by that golden helmet. Warmly and sheepishly he smiled, basking in the well-wishes and greetings of the rest of his team. It was obvious that their little family had grown close-knit, and despite his ever present caution, Bruce did seem to be relaxing among those he feels safe with, finding his contentment again, at last.

So joyous and fond was this reunion that no one seemed to notice a now silent element in the room. Almost no one noticed that Loren had placed herself carefully situated into a corner as far from Bruce and the Hulk-made ‘smash art’ wall divider as possible, careful alert green eyes shifting from one to the other.

Someone HAD, however, noticed. They always would.

“He won’t hurt you.” Natasha murmured as she slipped to stand beside Loren, observing the assembled revel with deceptive casual interest. “Not without reason, that is. That shouldn’t be an issue here, though. Bruce is one of the most genuinely kind guys I know.”

“What a person wants, or is innately motivated by, matters little in some situations.” Loren stated softly. “Sometimes a person must do something simply because it must happen.”

Pale features drew into a soft wry smile before Natasha shifted her gaze from Loren to the sparkling ragged marble of the wrecked, salvaged floor standing vertically, now a piece of decor, before she turned her attention to the individuals gathered around Tony.

“He’s not a monster, you know. No more than the rest of us. Less so than some of us.”

“How philosophical.” Loren murmured before she shifted her gaze to the vampire costumed woman beside her, arching an elegant raven brow. “Do you welcome so openly into your fold?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Cryptic yet pointed words drew a sharp look of surprise to the woman beside Loren, caution gnawing within her as she absently wriggled her fingers within the gloves, feeling the enwrapping safety of the metal and components within the joints.

“What, exactly, do you mean by that?”

“Well, the fact that you do not exist: no past, no records, not even fingerprints filed some place or so much as a photograph before now for even a face match… THAT, to a spy such as myself, should raise countless red flags. Especially since from the very beginning you’ve been attached to our Iron Moron out there.”

“I could attempt to deny or explain my case, yet I have no proof of the truth -- and I doubt that you would believe me.”

Sharp intelligent green eyes met coldly calculating green, the women in a dangerously keen staring match with the intent to read some hint, some secret from the other.

“I trust him.” The Black Widow stated, finally, nodding to Tony gesticulating wildly to the scientist, obviously telling him about one of his madcap adventures.

Loren, despite herself, found a smile warming her lips as she watched the mad mortal. This genuine, shamefully weak expression of affection it didn’t even occur to the raven -haired woman she wore. Natasha’s predatorial stare eased into a soft, sated look, smirking softly before she reached up to place her hand upon the taller woman’s arm.

“He trusts you. Stark is NOT someone who trusts easily, and he spends every effort to confuse and drive others away. So, it is a surprise that the end result of you being with him has obviously been highly beneficial. To him, to you, to many things in general.”

The tension finally began to ease from the woman adorned in the colours of Iron Man, bowing her head to the glowing circle upon the front of her halter top before she cupped her hands around it. Light sources seemed to form an eldritch ball of light she held tenderly and delicately in her hand.

“I know that I have his heart in my hands.”

“If you break it, I’ll slit your throat without batting an eye.” Natasha stated with a drawl, peering to her sharply manicured nails as she trailed her tongue over a sharp point of her fang, vaguely amused by her biting of her ever-so-animated partner.

“Ah, then I should be sparing your blade a cleaning. His heart is my most precious treasure, one of the the few things that is truly mine. Rest assured, I shall jealously guard it.”

Natasha bore something of a secretive sly smile before turning her head, nodding to the woman beside her with unspoken understanding.

“I AM allowed to tease him, am I not, Ms Ro-”

“Natasha. My last name is for business purposes or enemies. But, yes. By all means, tease him. We shouldn’t allow for Tony to grow lax and careless, should we.”

A wicked smile was shared between the women, a bonding of sharp crafty minds that would doubtless wreak havoc for the man in question.

 

~~~

  
Much to Tony’s relief, when he’d lead Bruce to greet Loren, there hadn’t been a cataclysmic explosion. The worst thing he’d noticed, in fact, was that the trickster and their residential red-headed assassin seemed to be conversing with disturbingly comfortable ease.

Like a couple of harpies planning on how to best cook him up.

Oh, he certainly couldn’t have THOSE two in cahoots. It was bad enough that Natasha and Loren were double teaming with that Pepper to keep him in line. He would have to make certain the three of them were never together.

It may well might be the end of Tony Stark.

With an arm slung in companionable affection around Bruce’s shoulder, Tony beamed grandly as he introduced his fellow scientist to the lovely, leggy woman sporting his iconic image in the sexiest of ways.

“So, Bruce! I’d like for you to meet Loren Kirk. She’s our artist-in-residence, chipping away at the big ol’ yard art downstairs. Loren, meet Bruce Banner, my science Bro. Nice guy until you piss him off. Then he keys your car. Before crushing it with his bare hands.”

“Kirk?” The soft spoken man repeated before something of a crooked grin widened as he looked from Loren to Tony, raising an eyebrow in wry amusement. “Please don’t tell me you’re romancing her because she inspires the nerd in you hidden under your GQ exterior.”

“I would not put it past him,” Loren remarked with a roguish and charmingly crooked smile pulling upon her lips, bright green eyes twinkling brightly. She turned to nod to the shyly smiling scientist, careful not to make skin contact despite the fact Tony had him in a ‘bro hug’ most improper.

“Hey! Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, here!” Tony pleaded, however, when he got flat looks from the three before him, he furrowed his brows with a somewhat annoyed expression gracing his features.

“Ah, Tony… considering your costume… you’re fitting the bill.” His expression turned thoughtful as the scruffy scientist peered to the beautiful woman who slipped to stand beside Tony.

“Well, then it will only be right for me to keep this troublesome one in line.” And, like punctuation, she swatted him upon the backside with the loud, illicit sound of leather being struck, followed by a sudden jump and a yelp from the short male.

“Ow, baby, that hurts!” Tony complained as he reached behind him to rub his sore backside, shifting a pouting stare to the dark-maned woman. “Watch it with the metal gloves… and how DID you get some of my suit pieces?”

“Well, I’ve heard about girlfriends wearing their boyfriend’s shirts and shorts...” Bruce began before he shook his head, rubbing his scruffy jaw with a rasp of fingers against stubble. “But this DOES seem to go against your usual security protocols, Tony.” Silently, Natasha nodded in agreement with her fellow Avenger’s observation.

“I asked Jarvis to borrow the pieces for tonight.” Loren stated before she slipped her arm possessively around Tony’s waist.

“That is correct, Sir.” The AI chimed in helpfully. “I agreed, and have limited the capabilities of the components. Ms. Kirk stated that it would feed your narcissism.” A snort of laughter escaped Bruce, and Natasha merely shook her head slowly, lips twitching slightly. Her head raised to peer to the assembled other men chatting merrily…MOSTLY. However, the assassin’s attention grew rather affixed as she caught stormy blue eyes watching the odd couple intently.

“Yeah, well, that street goes both WAYS, hone-ah!” Again, another swat rang out, and Tony was flushing decidedly, attempting to bat that hand away. “Babe, knock it off with the metal spanking...”

“Would you rather have it with my bare hand, then?” That idle quip and dangerous smile of promise shut Tony down entirely, heat suffusing his face, before gathering to warm in his chest, before plummeting to land with a poignant throb in his groin.

Bruce cleared his throat, looking decidedly awkward, darting his eyes away before settling upon Natasha who regarded them somewhat thoughtfully.

“Natasha?”

“Well, now…. I think it’s time we start the Trick or Treating, Bruce. Come on, let’s take Thor and Steve on the adventure of a lifetime in modern America. Besides, ‘Mina’ there needs to make his way onto social media.” Hurriedly, she clasped her fellow Avenger by the arm, dragging Bruce to the rest of the clustered team.

“Yeah, I was wondering about that...”

“He made a mistake.”

“Yes?”

“He made a bet with me.”

“Ah.”

“Sooo, trick or treat? Now?” Tony inquired, finally managing to find words. However, Natasha stopped dead still before turning upon her heel, pointing to the genius inventor.

“Oh, no…. YOU two stay here. Between Loren’s comic book centerfold costume -- which is fine in private, not so wise in public -- and your social H-bomb of an outfit, you’re staying in this tower. I’m not going to deal with your shenanigans.”

Turning to the rest of the team, she ushered them into the lift, veritably dragging Thor by his wrist, though her words of tasty treats and festivities seemed to coax the Thunderer more.

“But… wait...” Tony attempted to plead, squirming slightly in Loren’s hold about his waist as the doors closed, leaving him alone with an archvillain in skin tight hot shorts.

“Hmm… you and I are alone, now...”

“She said shenanigans.”

He could feel the firmness of that sleek body sidling to press against his back, the warm tingling circles of the repulsors set in metal slowly roaming over his torso, he could veritably FEEL it under the leather and metal.

“... do you know what I wish for right now?”

“She’s Russian! Shenanigans is an Irish word.”

“I wish to feel the heat of your mouth around my cock.” That soft velvety tone teased against Tony’s ear before plush warm lips teased against the outer cusp of it.

“Don’t Russians have a word for--- wha?” Like a car screeching off the road, Tony’s rambling ruminations skidded to a halt as those sensuously delivered words, Shakespearean smut at its finest, erased all other thoughts from his mind. Even disabling his body’s knowledge how to breathe… briefly.

A slow sensual grind rolled against his backside, and the genius found his body wracked with a long goosebump-inducing shiver… ESPECIALLY since he could FEEL something absolutely hard and unladylike pressing against him even through the layers of leather. But those breasts certainly were. Now, Tony’s mind was so very shattered with confusion. And gibbering arousal. So much of that.

“I wish to rut into you, my sweet mortal, until you scream words of begging.”

Long silence ensued before Tony turned, grasping Loki’s hand before marching her… him… WHATEVER… to the lift doors.

“Upstairs. My room. NOW.”

“Before the begging commences, Sir...” Of ALL the voices, and of all the things to begin with, Tony most certainly didn’t want THAT!

“Jarvis...” Tony groans, nearly about to respond with ‘not now’... but by this point, he was beginning to realize that ‘not now’ had been really awkward when he used it in the past. Whether he wanted to or not… he had to listen to his AI. “What?!”

“There are three trick-or-treaters in the lobby. I thought you should know about, Sir.”

Tony blinked, incredulous and throbbing in delayed arousal. What the hell?!

“Tell them we’re out of candy.”

“They said they wish to speak to, as one put it, Hel-Faðir.”

Loki abruptly straightened, looking sharply to the top of the lift before speaking alertly. “Bring them to Stark’s floor.”

“As you wish.”

Irritation began to rise in Tony, desperately lusty and veritably throbbing with Loki’s teasing thus far. He turned to grab the female figure by her forearms, peering up into her eyes with a mulish intensity.

“Oh no… nonono, sweet cheeks, you’re NOT going to blueball me right now. We JUST managed to get rid of the Chaperone of Thunderp.”

  
Tension and amusement adorned those lovely features as the female-formed god leaned closer to grace the frustrated inventor’s lips with a soft inviting kiss.

“My poor little mad human. I promise that I will very much make it worth your while. After.”

This seemed to placate Tony. At least long enough until the doors opened and presented the mezzanine of Stark’s domain. Normally, he wouldn’t take a sex IOU so readily, and certainly with much more grumbling, however there was something in the Trickster’s demeanor. A difficult-to-read emotional blend Tony hadn’t seen before. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn it was fondness, uncertainty, concern, and anticipation balled into one.

“Fine. Fine.” Tony finally relented, pacing slowly before the lift doors with his hands planted upon his hips as he attempted to calm his nerves and libido through distraction. The leather clothing, he had to admit… felt pretty bad-ass despite the cumbersome layering, and that cape had a dramatic swoosh that flowed gracefully with his movements. No wonder Loki seemed to delight in wearing such combinations, and the helmet had its own interesting quirk. Due to its low brow, he was constantly tilting his head slightly to see under it, something he KNEW had a decidedly sinister effect from seeing Loki peer like that from under it.

Tony could just picture the look on Pepper’s face (under her palm) should he come in to the next shareholder meeting swathed in leather and drama and demand that the peons kneel before him. Suddenly, he was looking forward to the next meeting.

As the elevator pinged, he turned from his deviant musings to peer towards the opening doors, drawing upon his most grim air of authority and dramatic annoyance.

“Listen up, you good for nothing snotmongers. Make it fast, and make it out.”

To which, he found himself tilting his head upward to stare to three grown individuals.

Towering over him.

Dressed as Harry Potter characters.

A Lucius, defined by the Slytherin green and black as well as slicked-back silvery hair, a rather scraggly yet youthful looking Sirius Black with a telltale pair of dog ears and tail, and a spectral woman in black robes with a grisly Death Eater mask.

And then the black-haired Gryffindor male suddenly burst out laughing, pointing to Tony with a shameless mirth and abandon as he gripped his midriff in an action akin to agonizing humor.

“Hey, kid, hasn’t your mother ever told you it’s rude to point?” Suddenly a red gauntlet clad hand slipped over his shoulder, hauling him back several steps before Loren tutted softly.

“I have. Alas, he has been influenced by Thor’s uncouth manners.” Immediately the silver -haired fellow slunk within with a supple fluid grace, leaning closer to place a kiss upon Loki’s cheek before he strode unceremoniously within.

“He IS the youngest. We do attempt to rein him in as well as we can in the absence of our parent.” Eerie slitted green eyes locked upon Tony’s as the stranger passed within his domain, seeming to shear and tear through the mortal’s presented facades to scour the domain that lies within. It was an utterly unsettling gaze, and yet, it did not completely jar Tony from the words discussed.

“Wait a minute… he...you….” Tony fiddled with his thoughts, bewildered, his sense of biological logic screaming as he observed the beautiful black-haired young woman. She removed her mask and revealed frighteningly similar features to the woman who held him still and steady with a hand upon his shoulder.

  
“Whoah, hey, POPS! You’re lookin’ pretty hot there! Nice outfit.” The rather shameless Sirius remarked as he strode within with a grand SHARP-toothed grin. He slunk an arm around Loki’s waist to place a less than modest kiss upon the ancient deity, before shuffling in with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Loki… I’m going to need an explanation here. Possibly with pictures, because this really isn’t making any rational sense.”

“A common occurrence, Mr. Stark.” The lovely young woman stated as she finally entered with a soft rustle, an odd soft smile of greeting and familiarity shared with Tony. She turned to the fondly smiling raven-haired bombshell, exhaling a dainty sigh. “Father, really… must you?”

Some inner part of Tony’s mind… that part that was NOT attached to his sense of self preservation, could not help but relate the corollary of the ‘Oh father’ lament to Sylvester the Cat by HIS son on Loony Toons. If he wasn’t so stunned at the moment, he’d have had a joke or two on the matter.

A low sigh escaped the sorcerer before he shifted back to his usual male form in a shimmer of golden magic… and yet, he hadn’t changed clothing, the garments clinging shamelessly snug to his smooth, lethal form. Somehow, it didn’t make it any less hot. It was, disturbingly, more so.

Especially since that deadly lean form slipped to press along Tony’s back, that thrumming energy and body heat easily felt through the layers of leather.

“Great pleasure do I take to introduce you all to Tony Stark, a rather precious mortal I have found favour with. He is also Iron Man and a cunning master inventor and craftsman within his realm, as well as being on par with the station of ‘Prince’ in this throneless world.”

Tony met those three pairs of unsettling eyes with his most dashing and cocky of grins, Tony Stark the showman working his charismatic magic.

“Tony, I wish to introduce you to three of my children. Hel is my oldest of the three, the Queen to the realm of Helheim. The Middle child is Jörmungandr, the World Serpent. He is quite the scholar; I can imagine he will find great interest in the creations of your mind. And the youngest is Fenrir, the Devouring Wolf. You remind me very much of his impulsive nature.”  
As both Tony and the wild dark -haired young man both snorted in irreverence, a slow smirk graced Hel’s face. The more studious sibling merely observed with a calm analyzing scrutiny, though his poker-faced expression eased a tad with the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“All right… so, that explains why you pinch me sometimes when I say the H-word.” A roguish smirk graced Tony’s face as Loki attempted to deliver said punishment, and yet the thick layers of leather protected him all too well. And so, he merely settled on slithering that cool hand under the coat to squeeze the cheeky mortal’s backside, sufficiently shutting the human up and planting a delightful look of surprise on the clean-shaven features. At a later time, Tony would realize that none of the three demigod children so much as batted an eye.

“I am quite indifferent by now to mortal misunderstandings of my name.” A thin graceful hand waved lightly in eloquent dismissal, a gesture all too much like her sire’s. “I must admit that it is pleasing to see you outside a matter of emergency, Mr. Stark.”

Both of Tony’s eyebrows rose high as he peered to the woman. “Uh… have we met? I mean, I think I’d remember you.”

“Helheim is the realm of the dead.” The silver--maned sibling stated smoothly, calmly in a soft spoken voice, melodic despite the analytical tone. “Within your mortal cultural analogy, my sister would be akin to the ‘Grim Reaper’.”

Words failed Tony as his jaw dropped and realization came crashing down. Oh. Right. HELL. Well, Loki’s daughter didn’t look to be the gleefully sadistic demon with a fire and brimstone decor. She seemed to be a lovely, if somewhat overworked young woman judging by the weary pleasantness she greeted both her father and himself.

Well, he DID have a lot of near death experiences… but he’d thought he’d just been running a REALLY good lucky streak. Well, apparently Vegas wasn’t the only place where sometimes luck is an act of covert interception rather than a whim of an unseen force.

“Oh… wow, I must really keep you on your toes. And since I’m still here, I’m guessing you kept leaving me to live. Thanks… I think.”

She merely lifted her shoulders with a soft rustle of the flowing fabric. “You are an entertaining soul, Mortal. Mistress Death, the very element of Death, has been pleased with your past gifts to her.”

“My… gifts?” Slowly the genius repeated the words, feeling an icy chill slithering down his spine and settling with an unsettling burn of guilt within the pit of his belly.

“The finest weapons developer in Midgard, Tony. Surely you know what your little toys accomplished?” Loki supplied with a cooly arched brow, peering to his prized mortal.

“Yeah, but… I’m not in that business. Not any more. I mean, I still fight! I just fight to preserve life,” the Avenger attempted to explain to the sorcerer.

“Yes, and it is the understanding you have of the value of life that even Mistress Death’s most ardent suitor cannot comprehend, whom is… may I say, Father, currently NOT running in her favor as much as your prized mortal. Do not count upon her favour lasting, however. She is fickle in her amusements.”

“Hold on here! Whoah… hold the phone. Are you saying this Mistress Death, uh, LIKES me because people died because of me, but now I’m not killing people?” Tony paused at the flat bemused look that came from Loki before he sighed, amending. “All right, NOT as many people.”

“For you, the VALUE of life, each and every one, is worth a great deal more.” Hel stepped in to explain before Fenrir butted in.

“So the moron trying to woo her is trying to drop truck loads of cheap Hershey chocolates on her doorstep while you, who doesn’t even have an INTEREST in courting here, placed the world’s finest hand crafted edible gold gilt chocolates in her lap in a lil’ box. Each one’s special and unique and takes a lot of work.” Fenrir pointed out bluntly, flatly with a slightly piqued look to his father who began to bear a troubled look despite the Mad God’s aloof annoyance of the topic.

“Quality is preferable to quantity, Stark. You also bear the benefit of wanting nothing from her.” The scholarly sibling finished, absently smoothing a long lock of silvery pale hair from his face to tuck behind his ear, every bit as wisely aloof as a Tolkien elven king. It made Tony feel like a Hobbit. Damn those freakishly tall freaks.

“Uh, thanks Jor...Jorgum…” Drawing a deep breath, Tony inhaled deeply before sighing, rubbing his face, pointing to the World Serpent. “That’s it. I’m calling you Jorge.”

“Hahahaa! Even the brightest of mortals can’t pronounce your name!!!” The wolf barked in uproarious laughter as he pointed to his rather consternated brother... before he yelped as the oldest of the trio grabbed one of those furry ears into an unrelenting pinch that made the youngest grimace with a hint of fang. The older sister scolded with a low hiss to her words.

“Silence! A century and a half was what it took for you to be able to speak your own brother’s name properly.”

“Yeow! Ok, sis… not my fault that Pops thought it would be funny to give him a gag name no one could pronounce easily!”

“And what a relief it is that Jörmungandr is the best behaved of you all. By the Norns, it would have been a mouthful had I been required to holler his name nearly as much as I had yours. For one point in time, concern weighed heavily upon me that you may have thought your name to be ‘Fenrir-Fenrir-Fenrir’.” Loki chastised before he paused, dropping his gaze to the mortal held close to him that seemed to give odd shakes and quirks.

“Is something amiss?”

“You’re all so domestic!” Finally Tony burst into laughter, leaning back against the god behind him. “Like a Badass Brady Bunch!”

A resounding bark of a laugh escaped the wolf as his other two siblings as well as his father bore blank looks before he started dead stiff, back straight and wolven ears perked as Tony jabbed a finger towards the youngest child.

“Ah HA! Gotcha!”

“Eh? Have you lost your marbles, mortal?”

“See, that’s it. Why is it you get the Earth… American no less… idioms while the rest of your family gets lost?”

The tautly muscled dark -haired male mere lifted his shoulders in an idle shrug.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in Midgard. I’m a sucker for interesting fast paced cultures. I like the constant change and evolution. It’s EXCITING.”

  
That… actually, Tony could completely relate to. He could only imagine how being in places so eternal could be BORING. With all the time in the world, who’d make things to save time, or find ways to accomplish something in a rush?

“Yeah, I can get that.” Shaking himself back to awareness, he stepped forward to turn and peer to the deity behind him. “Y’know, you didn’t mention your kids before. I mean… I showed you mine.”

“I was concerned that you would not understand...”

“Uh, we both agree mine are WEIRD, right? So what wouldn’t I understand?”

“I believe that would be a topic best elucidated at a time less pressing.” The scholar responded calmly, settling himself to sit smoothly with a serpentine elegance upon the couch. A sleek pale hand picked up the book Loki had been writing in during his ‘project’, slit-pupiled eyes calmly studying the flowing script of the writing crawling across the page.

“Yes. I must have a word with Father regarding… business.” The spectral pale young woman stated ominously before she raised her hands, waving them like a mother would to chase cats off her couch. “Shoo. All of you. These words are private.”

“You DO realize this is MY tower, right?” Tony drawled as he sat forward, quirking an eyebrow up. “Mi casa!’”

“‘Es su casa’, man, what an awesome host!” Fenrir darted forward to catch one of Tony’s arms while Jörmungandr slips like a pale specter to the mortal’s other side, leading him to the lift.

Struggling briefly, he turned to peer to Loki who removed the gold and crimson helmet to stare to his daughter with a look of deep haunted concern. Honestly? Tony couldn’t understand a WORD of what they were saying in hushed tones. Weird aliens with their weird languages.

Sighing, Tony stepped into the lift, glancing from one tall ‘kid’ to the other before he lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Fine. How about I show you my kids.”

“You? Kids? Yeah right, and I’m a monkey’s uncle. Everyone knows you’re the ultimate bachelor.”

“Actually, you’ve met one of them already.”

“Oh?” One of those wolven ears quirked before Fenrir leaned closer to peer to Stark, shrewdly studying the shorter man before him dressed as his father.

“Yup. Jarvis.”

Both of the black furred ears quirked upward as that polite voice emanated from the speaker.

“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Lokison.”

Silence fell save for the soft hum of the moving elevator until the feral youth grunted one wry word.

“Bullshit.”

~~~

For intergalactic brats, the pair seemed to comprehend Tony’s ‘children’ pretty well . Immediately Fenrir seemed to have instantly struck an affinity with the trio of Stark’s robots, and his hearty laughter was heard echoing in the lab. By this point, Tony was barely surprised when a midnight black wolf suddenly replaced the dark-haired sibling and he began to run with a skittering of claws over polished flooring as he chased and was chased by the one-armed mechanical wonders.

The more reserved of the two brothers was standing, entranced before the massive server banks before him that housed Jarvis. Within the very center lay the heart of the AI, spanning from floor to ceiling and wider than two men. The unique core stood in long vertical tubes neatly lined up beside each other, iridescent colors scintillating and seeming to move with prismatic luster with his internal processes.

“Beautiful.” The scholar murmured, those serpentine eyes locked with an avid wonder and curiosity.

“I am grateful for your praise, Mr. Lokison.”

“Hey, don’t go inflating his ego, Jorge. He’s uppity enough as it is.”

“A trait I humbly learned from you, Sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he shook his head as he turned to peer to the blinking lights that winked in their secret coding, denoting Jarvis’ current condition.

“It is beyond the means of mere mortals to create a homunculus.” Jörmungandr stated coolly before turning his gaze to the human beside him. A human who was grinning positively madly. “I’m Tony Stark, Kiddo! I’m in the business of doing the impossible and making the unknown.”

Somehow, this didn’t impress the serpentine entity. It didn’t exasperate him, either, so that must have been a good sign.

“Sooo, right. Enough about me. I’m guessing if Fido over there...” He pointed towards the direction where a table wobbled dangerously as a dark furry form scrambled under it to escape Dum-E, the robot whirring with determination and delight. “... has a different form, you do, too?”

“You are unexpectedly receptive to changelings such as we are.”

Tony lifted his shoulders slightly with a casual shrug. “I’m unconventional. Besides, after your uncle that uses a hammer to fly, and your gender-bending dad, I’m not sure there’s much left to surprise me.”

With a hiss of a soft rustle, the pale -maned man shifted in a lustrous mercurial melting morphing of silver. He arose in the form of a shimmering, silvery-white serpent with striking green eyes, easily as long as a python, but decidedly much sleeker and slimmer.

  
“Well, that’s not so ba-hey… whoah, watch it...” The inventor jumped in a slightly awkward jig as the snake slithered up along his leg, that long, sinuous, powerful form slinking upward with a maddening slowness before the serpent managed to slither under the coat.

A maddening urge to yell and swat the weirdly moving lump under his clothing was fought valiantly, especially with that dry raspy cool-scaled body that slunk along his bare skin before coming to halt over the reactor.

“Hey… do you mind? Out… now!”

“Your magic core is pleasant and your body warm.” That unexpectedly deep voice came muffled from under the leather before Tony tugged on his collar to peer within with a soft pout of a frown.

“Yeah, I know who you get THAT from. And, seriously, I’m not comfortable with people messing around that. Loki is the only one I’ll let play there.”

“Where did you find such a device?” Slowly, the viper’s head slunk up to creep out from the collar of Tony’s shirt to peer into his own eyes. The remainder of that serpentine body slithered free until the pale reptile was draped over Tony’s armored shoulders.

“I made it.” Tony bore a grand smarmy grin, raising his head to jut his chin proudly. “There’s only one like it.”

“Artificer!” The godling hissed in excitement before a black lupine form nearly bowled the inventor over as he raced closer.

“Really, Jor?! Where?” Fenrir darted his head this way and that, eagerly and hungrily searching for… something, before he looked to Tony with surprisingly expressive disbelief, then shifted back into his more human form. “What, THIS guy? A Midgardian? You gotta be kidding me, Jor.”

“Hey, Scooby Doo, I’m not some dumb yokel, all right?” He paused, then gestured emphatically with his hands. “I just HAPPEN to not know much about intergalactic hally hoo. Yet. So, mind telling me what an ‘Artificer’ is?”

Cool writhing length of serpent slunk back down along Tony’s leg to the floor before it formed, once more, into the shape of the silvery -haired young man who spoke calmly as if he hadn’t just been creeping shamelessly under the genius’ clothes.

“An artificer is a rare anomaly and are oft sought for in the Nine Realms as an individual gifted with an innate bond with the fundamental structural elements of the universe. They can SEE it in ways others do not… and are able to create many impressive artifacts and wonders, imbuing powers and essences others cannot. They are the ones famed for making impressive Homunculi.”

Silence settled for a long moment as Tony Stark crossed his arms over his chest as he mull deeply over this topic of discussion.

“That’s so much more awesome than Genius. Sure… why not?”

With one of those expressive ears tilted aside, Fenrir shared a toothy leer as he leaned upon the mortal’s shoulder as the scholarly sibling continued. “Some realms collect them, choice or not, as sort of indentured inventor servants or glorified pets. And then there are some, like the Svartalfheim, that use the blood of artificers to make their enchanted weapons and armor. Then again there are those that believe the old lore.”

“You’re trying to intimidate me, aren’t you. It’s not working.” Of course, the damn essence of curiosity within Tony began to gnaw and forced him to ask despite his stubborn nature. “Old lore?”

Casually, Fenrir trailed a sharp nail along the familiar forms upon the helm of his father. “That the blood, flesh --or both-- of an Artificer will grant great powers to them. Giants generally go with that old fad.”

“Aaaaand, that’s why I don’t believe in this mumbo jumbo bullcrap.” Tony pulled away with a stubborn huff and a dirty glower to the snickering trickster wolf. “Look, I know my awesomeness is delicious, but I’m going to deny this Artificer thing. Sounds so old fashioned, anyway. I’ll stick with Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist.”

“Yeah, Jor, you win. I completely see why Dad would find amusement in this mortal.” The raven-maned fellow snorts with a wry amusement. However, Tony’s gaze shifted between the two, looking decidedly wary.

“Hold the biscuit, here, are you saying that you already KNEW your dad had the hots for me?”

“He did. Hel and I just wanted to see what Dad’s new toy looked like.”

Clearing his throat with a rather admonishing look to his uncouth younger sibling, the World Serpent crossed his arms coolly over his chest as he spoke calmly, deliberately.

“My awareness of this was from the moment he gave you my bracelet that you wear even now.”

Blinking, Tony tugged the sleeve back to peer to the cool metal about his wrist before raising his gaze to the bookish offspring before him. It DID resemble that serpent form rather surprisingly in tiny detail.

“I’ll be damned. He just says that this helps him find me.”

As green eyes met green in an inscrutable knowing look, Tony felt his heart flutter for an inexplicable reason, KNOWING he was missing something highly essential.

“That bracelet is crafted from one of my whiskers.”

“Whiskers.”

“Yes. Of my true form that would have been the cause of considerable structural damage to your building. A crested serpent, or viper dragon as some in your culture may view me.”

“Ah. So… I’m sensing there’s some kind of meaning behind this.” Tony drawled, hoping to guide the pale fellow into giving a straight answer. That’s, apparently, an inherited trait in Loki’s line.

“I’m gonna put it in layman’s terms for the mortal, Jor.” Fenrir interrupted before settling his hands upon his hips. “It’s like this: since that’s made from a part of my brother, he’ll know where it is on this world. Anyhow, if something’s blocking or concealing you, even from magic, Jor would be able to track you down.”

“Component resonance?” Tony hazarded, but grinned grandly when both of the brothers nodded, as he seemed to have grasped the technical functionality of it. “But you’re also able to pick up things through that resonance about who’s wearing it… obviously since you knew when Loki gave it to me.”

“Quit astute for a mortal, you understand the base concept surprisingly well.” Was that praise from the aloof entity? Score!

“Sheesh, Bro, get Gungnir out of your ass. Hel gives her approval, you give yours, and I guess I give mine. So, he’s good. I doubt the others will have much quarrel with him.”

“Others?” Tony inquired, his eyebrows climbing high to disappear under the golden brim of the helmet.

“Yes. We are the middle three of his children, all from one mother.” Jörmungandr supplied helpfully.

“Wait, ONE mother? You know… now that you mention this… Loki HAD been dancing around the topic of being married...”

“Well, there’s Sleipnir, his dad’s a horse.”

“The youngest are the twins, Nari and Váli, the law mother of whom is father’s wife by marriage, Sygn,” the pale -haired young man continued coolly, calmly.

As Tony began to tense, realizing that he might well have himself a fight on his hands in the near future from a Mrs. Loki-wife or whatever, he was brought up short as the more feral brother barked a grand laugh.

“Ha ha! Those poor bastards! They’ve really got a mess.”

“Of course...” Tony muttered, exhaling a deep breath as he felt himself getting dragged into the tangled mess that WOULD be Loki’s relationships. “...his family life WOULDN’T be normal. So, what’s up with the Loki and Sigyn? And the twins for that matter?”

“Theirs is a marriage simply of convenience and a mutual agreement to ease social peers and protocol, coupled with an understanding that they are allowed to pursue their own interests.” The scholar attempted to explain with a cordial delicacy, most of which was obviously lost on the listening mortal. However, Fenrir cast all propriety aside and leveled the facts with bluntness.

“She’s a ravenous carpet eater.”

“Brother, your tact is woefully lacking.”

“Hold on, hold on, here...” Tony reached up to hold up a hand, batting at air in an attempt to corral some sense as his swift mind was compiling this jumbled information.

“Means that the kids aren’t hers.”

“I kind of figured that. So they have another mother.”

“Or father.” Fenrir remarked with a grand grin.

“No one truly knows, save Father, and he prefers to not discuss the topic.”

“Well we, y’know-- Loki’s kids, kind of suspect Uncle Thor knows, being the overly attached big brother that he is and all, but he’s kept surprisingly quiet on this. Then again, Dad probably threatened to hex his dick into a gherkin or something if he told.”

“Tact...” The silver -maned scholar sighed as he reached up to rub his eyes. “...you must develop your tact, Fenrir.”

Tony raised his eyebrows slightly, looking decidedly dubious and intrigued at the same time, finding this developing rat’s nest sheer and utter gossip fodder. Loki must have kept the tabloids of Asgard rolling with his exploits alone.

“Uhm, right. So, your mom. I take it she’s NOT married to him?”

“Angrboða, our mother, is the head chieftess of a large tribe of storm giants. The story, as Father and Uncle would tell, is the brothers had been sent with gifts on behalf of the All Father to seek a truce and support from her tribe.”

“Cutting the long-ass story down. We’ll be here all day if Jor tells it. She didn’t like the gifts, but she took a liking to dad and… bada bing, bada boom, Hel. After that, she was open to negotiations. Two more times after that. Well, since it was becoming problematic with Gramps that he’s getting so many weird ass grandkids, he demanded Loki find a less -- fertile --means of striking a lasting truce.”

Head swimming, the inventor reached up to rub his eyes. He thought HIS family was fucked up. Oh, by no stretch of the imagination, could Howard hold a candle to this.

“I’m almost afraid to ask about the ‘means’.”

“It was rather diplomatic.” Began the serpent only to be continued by the wolf in broad bold strokes.

“She cut off his cock and balls and had them magically preserved for her amusements. Bet you’re glad he’s able to heal just about anything.”

Immediately Tony’s hands dropped to his groin as he grimaced with an unbidden squirm, glaring to the grandly grinning wolfish man before him.

“Ow… that’s so… I need brain bleach.”

“Father has survived far worse.” Jörmungandr replied calmly, as if it’s old hat to discuss horrific maiming of his parent. Then again… these WERE Loki’s kids.

~~~

By the time they were finally allowed to return to Tony’s floor, it took everything in the human’s power NOT to shove Loki down and look for any telltale scars. At least, now, he understood WHY Loki hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about his children or relationships.

But Tony found he liked the God of Chaos’ litter, for all their quirks. And it was obvious that they all love their father... even if the levels of respect varied. It was heartwarming, really. Now the rambunctious mortal could see how Loki was so good with children. This was a side of Loki, a MASSIVE side, that no SHIELD file could possibly have held.

And it was shared with Tony. Loki had FAMILY: no matter how the politics of Asgard may have chewed him up and spit him out, Loki had his children. Now, the eccentric inventor had a chance to be invited to this mad little menagerie. Tony could completely roll with that group which put the fun in dysfunctional.

Of course, he’d extended them an invitation to come back to visit any time they wished to visit Casa Stark. Though, if the two were ‘indisposed,’ the kids were going to damn well make themselves at home until they were available.

Finally, after the doors hissed closed, Tony breathed a deep sigh, settling his hands upon his hips as a crooked smirk graced his lips. “Y’know… you might try to pretend to be the almighty cosmic asshole of doom, but you’re really an adorable parent, do you know that?”

A wicked grin crept with a devious menace upon Tony’s lips before he turned to stare to Loki who stood casually beside him. “I might even use this as blackmail. Wouldn’t Fury love to get his mitts on evidence of a Domestic Loki.”

One of those aristocratic brows lifted into a cool look of questioning as the elegant creature peered to the mad mortal looking rather playfully villainous at the moment. Slowly, he tugged on that helmet once more, amusement turning the prince’s lips as he spoke with wry flatness. “Oh, my… such a dastardly plan. It will never succeed, you evil fiend.”

Surprise, surprise… Tony should have KNOWN the God of Lies would heartily step into a game of role reversal role play. Oddly thrilled rushes of adrenaline slithered through Tony’s body as he became acutely aware of the layers of metal and leather, the dramatic sweep of the cape. Damn it. He felt POWERFUL. Oh yeah, he could certainly play along with this.

“Oh? And how do you think you can stop me? All it takes is one word, and he’ll have evidence, all the proof that he could ever need to PROVE what a kind heart you truly have.” He couldn’t help it, a wicked leering grin grew upon Tony’s face and he could see how a fine twitch slithered through the muscles covered by the bared flesh of his belly… how those green irises grew thinner as those pupils widened with the obvious excitement mounting in the sorcerer.

“You would not DARE...” Loki breathed in a low growl, shifting his stance to be straighter, defensive even as he raised his head with an arrogant pride. The beautiful part, Tony could not help but notice, about those Ironette shiny lamé shorts Loki was wearing, is that even as a male, they hugged him. No, scratch that. ESPECIALLY hugged him. Deliciously, obscenely. In fact, as the villainous genius stepped back to appraise the heroically scantily clad deity, he could see the telltale, succulently obscene form slowly presenting itself in increasing definition beneath the shimmery material. It was poetic porn spun into tawdry definition, shining long and hard under hot rod red. It was so sexy, it was illegal.

“Oh, I would. You heroes ALWAYS have your weaknesses.” Tony drawled with a wicked amusement as he drew closer, slowly trailing a single finger from the base of the bluntly bulging package to slowly, lightly, trail along the feverishly hot firmness throbbing beneath his touch.

Never had the willful genius heard such an erotic sound as that quavered breathy gasp, nor so sinful a sight as how Loki jerked bodily with a slight arch.

“Ahn, damn you! I am not for you to toy with.” The sorcerer hissed in a voice subtly raw, unsteady with the delicious torment and exhilaration racing through him. Like an eerie mirror of the Mad God, Tony could see those widened jewel toned eyes reflecting his horned glorious warlord image, and it struck a strange chord within Tony. In that reflection… he looks like what the Merchant of Death could have been.

He could have well been the villain and Loki the hero had circumstances been different, and it was a paradoxical grip to his balls that made his own hard-on throb demandingly in his pants. Well, he told everyone he ISN’T a saintly hero. Tony Stark was going to damn well bask in this inebriating naughty power.

All it took was but a subtle squeeze of his fingers about the obscene, thinly-clad metallic ruby bulge to have Loki arching with a sibilant hiss, rising slightly on his toes in the metal boots, the glove repulsors flickering slightly in their luminescence as they picked up on the tremulous tension in the god’s body.

“I might be convinced to hold my juicy little black mail if you give me what I want, my helpless little hero.” Tony murmured with a low sinister purr as he leaned in closer, slowly trailing his hands with a maddening slow caress along that sleek form. Calloused fingers tauntingly grazed with languid casual travelling over bared flesh, covering taut twitching muscles of the deity’s pale belly before reaching his crimson clad chest. Much to Tony’s amusement, when his thumbs flicked over the already perked nubbins of flesh peaking under the material, the taller male gave a decidedly entertaining jerk, scintillating clad hips bucking crudely into thin air.

“And what… would that be?” Raw words escaped Loki, only to turn into a sharp gasp as calloused demanding hands ended their journey at his throat. With those brilliant fingers cupping the column of Loki’s neck, the inventor could feel the god’s pulse jumping, its beat swifter, harder under his thumbs.

“Kneel.”

That one word made the sorcerer jerk like a viper, venom-toned eyes sharpening with challenge, and Tony merely grinned with a sinister mirth as he pressed his fingers over the jugular just as the proud Aesir began to scoff at him. Oh, the mortal knew that he hadn’t a prayer of choking the God. However, there was something thrillingly powerful, so deliciously exciting as he felt that pulse struggle harder and harder against his thumb, to see the man towering over him growing an interesting shade of deeper and richer red with every second, with every thundering heartbeat.

Perhaps Tony may have wondered if he was pushing too far, dancing a dangerous line. Except as his eyes trailed down and he literally saw Loki’s tenting THROBBING under the metallic fabric, he knew that the God was enjoying this little power play as much as he was.

“I want you on your knees, Loki.” A huskiness began to take over Tony’s voice, turning it into an illicit growl. Hee watched as Loki helplessly shifted his hips, obviously finding an unsettling arousal from that relentless staring. “Where you belong.” Finally, he raised his gaze to the God of Mischief’s face as he released his hands to allow blood to thunder back into the dizzied sorcerer’s brain.

Sensuously with a smooth grace, Loki slowly descended, sinking to his knees as if he was pushed downward with an inexplicable, oppressive force. Yet, despite the act of obedience, bold green eyes stared back up with an exhilarating defiance and a burning that could swing either way: as fierce spirit or devouring arousal.

“That’s my good little hero.” Cooed the eccentric ‘villain’ as he began to stalk slowly around Loki, admiring the sight of the prostrated Aesir deliciously below his height. Even to him, in the silence the soft whispered creak of leather was obscenely loud: mingling with the purposeful thump of each bootfall of his steps, the cape sighing with the movements of his passing.

Tony’s hungrily observing eyes were rewarded as he watched every succulent angle, how the prostrated deity twitched and tensed as the inventor’s prowling seemed to be having an effect even Loki’s best poker-face facade cannot hide.

By the time Tony arrived to stand before Loki, he was met with hungrily focused emerald eyes as a fine quaver gripped that lean form, held so very very taut in maintaining that subservient position.

“You shall rue entertaining the notion that you can order me as a lowly vassal.” Primal and raw was the husky tone in the defiant god’s voice, the velvety sensual tone spearing a burning lust deep in the engineer’s core.

“Oh will I?” Words the feigned villain murmured soft and low as he strode slowly one step closer, then two. With his hand imperiously upon his hip, tugging aside the coat’s flaps, he slowly pushed his hips forward to press that obscenely prominent package of his trapped length encased in buttery soft leather to the Trickster’s lips. A positively, sinfully lewd act of domination as the genius cupped the smooth, hard metal of the helmet adorning Loki’s head.

“I think that mouth of yours is being put entirely to waste with these idle threats.”

Oh, the slight squirm the mischief maker made was thrilling and seemingly challenging Tony’s domineering authority. However, the billionaire knew that if the God of Chaos truly wanted to break free, he could have snapped the bones in Tony’s hand like pretzel sticks. The thought alone made lust throb in a heated burn through his body. Slowly he rolled his hips to grind his entrapped erection against the kneeling god’s mouth in a crass act of dominance.

“Show me how legendary that Silvertongue of yours is.”

As those pursed lips finally parted, slowly, with a deceptive reluctance, a thrill of victory speared through the inventor, but when Loki began to mouth over his lewdly prominent bulge, that thrill turned into a full-on rush of heedless lust. Tony swiftly found he had to spread his booted feet a little further apart, arching his body to further press his hips forward in a hungry desperation for that sinful mouth massaging… no… MOLESTING his throbbing, trapped arousal under saliva-shining leather, the genius found his thoughts melting in his mind.

All he could see were those witchfire green eyes, those slowly swelling and flushing lips moving, glistening, and that sensuous tongue slithering like a lewd serpent over the definitions and textures of the obscene package straining the supple material. And what took this from beautiful smut to succulently sinful damnation was the face plate of Iron Man staring up at him, those blue featureless eyes in the metal that seemed to accuse, challenge, whisper the defilement of his very own icon.

Holy fuck, was that the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. And he knew, KNEW that Loki was going through his own narcissistic porn with the sorcerer staring up to his own silhouette of his battle armor and helmet looming like a warlord over him.

Sweaty white bloodless fingers squeaked as Tony gripped that rounded metal surface. he devilish god slithered his metal-clad hands around the engineer’s thighs to pull his legs wider, sending the mortal mad with the tightening strain it placed upon the crotch of his pants. Low and choked sounds were evoked from Tony’s throat as this sent his mind reeling, full-bodied shudders jerking through his frame as Loki gripped the zipper between his teeth and slowly tugged it lower. Each click of the metal teeth on the track coming undone made Tony draw sharp breaths, jerk his hips as his thinly trapped arousal strained the thin black briefs to burst free. Once cool air greeted Tony, a delicious weakness surged up his legs, melting his spine as it coaxed his head to loll back, the weight of that horned helm undeniable to him now.

“Fuck… Loki...”

“All in good time, my mortal… all in good time.” The deity murmured in vast amusement, words muffled amidst the layers of leather as he slithered his hands to part the coat, flicking the layers of the regal battle attire aside to admire what he was doing to the man, looming and leering over him. With a devilish grin slithering across Loki’s lips, he proceeded to ravenously mouth that trapped firmness, with feral sounds breathed hotly over thin cotton, drenched with the mingled wetness of saliva and the pre oozing with a vibrant flavour to greet Loki.

Tony became acutely aware of every single nerve ending he had, how every hair on his body was standing in shivery delight and how, of all things, the acoustics of the lounge were affecting him.

Every gasped ragged breath, every creak of leather and the relentless music of Loki’s laps and soft hums here and there, wet and crudely slurping… it assailed his ears and his lust even as the room masterfully silenced every minute sound of the outside world. The merely audio element alone when Loki wrapped his lips around his thinly trapped sodden package and SUCKLED obscenely wetly was nearly his undoing.

“Sir…” Mad suction, saliva trickling down his thighs.

“...may I advise...” Sharp dangerous teeth grazing softly in a torturous rasp over his painfully constrained arousal.

”...that you not proceed...” A sharp pinch as that hard enamel met, gripping the thin material with a teasing edge of astoundingly pleasurable pain as Loki captured but the barest nip of the velvety skin sheathing his throbbing aching arousal.

“...in so public a venue.” His knees trembled, muscle, bone, and sinew turning into jelly as Loki, that beautifully insane creature TUGGED, wrenched a cry from Tony. Like a foal learning its legs, he awkwardly stood… an attempt to buck nearly made him fall to the ground if two steel strong hands hadn’t slithered around his legs to grip his ass.

“Sir...”

“Gywrm...fuggh!” Remarked Tony Stark rather unintelligibly. Loki eased that pinching bite briefly to catch merely cotton before he jerked his head back, PULLING with a rending tear.

“...”

“Hyaaan gnah!” The genius eloquently remarked as shocking cold greeted his throbbing burning shaft as it bobbed out and slapped against cold metal. Loki tugged the brutally ripped hole in Tony’s briefs lower until his testicles bounced free to instantly be assaulted by licking and brutal battering by the famed Silvertongue. And his eyes were locked to the visage of Iron Man who stared up almost accusingly, enduring silently as the noble metallic face was rubbed by his crimson engorged length and smearing ropy thick gooey trailed over the scarlet and gold painted surface.

He nearly lost it, his body spasming and tensing abruptly as his balls tightened…

“Mr. Loki, may I have a moment of your time?”

...only to be seized tightly in a cold metal hand contrasted with the thrumming repulsor pad. The warm pulsing was driving the engineer out of his mind as it sinfully stimulated his roiling release held captive.

“Yes Jarvis?”

“Thank you for responding intelligibly.”

Tony would plot how to murder his electric butler… however, currently, he was trapped in a constant attention loop upon his hidden throbbing balls, and his steadily burgundy-turning length drooped all over his iconic image. He gripped those thinly clad shoulders in trembling hands, slumping over Loki’s kneeling form with a low sob as vicious shudders wracked his body. So close, so close… and damn, he’d never thought to use the repulsors for THAT. Normally that would be good, but the constant stimulation trapped him in this cycle of constant peak and denied release.

“May I request for you to relocate my addled Master to a less obvious location? While I am impartial to your antics, I would prefer to keep the structural damage to a minimum. I would like to point out, also, that his room and workshop are the two most sound insulated locations within the tower.”

“Your helpful nature bears no bounds, Jarvis.”

“Your praise is appreciated, Sir.”

Tony Stark had gone blind, agonizing lights of aching pleasure flared like paparazzi flashes over his retina, and for a moment, he found himself plummeting, tumbling, flying: feeling like he was falling apart on an atomic level before suddenly he bounced upon something soft.

At a later time, he’d think back on the sudden physics lawbreaking change in location, but for the time being, he was entirely enthralled by the sight of Loki kneeling, looming over him on his bed. The dim light gleamed on gold, red, glistening shamefully on his wet trails rubbed over the hot-rod red and sunburst-gold painted finish of his helmet.

“You...” The deity stated as he began to push Tony’s legs forward to his chest, earning a low grunt of protest both from the mortal and the supple hide of his attire.

“...have been...” Further, further, the mortal felt his legs being pushed to his chest, and more and more he could feel his neglected length and his swollen testicles dangling obscenely, neglected in the cool air.

“...a very...” One of his shaking wrists was grabbed, however, Tony could care less, enraptured by those hypnotic green eyes locked with his own and promised a world of mischief.

“...very...” The other wrist was ensnared by long, pale iron-strong fingers, pulling both of his wrists down past his knees tucked to his chest.

“...naughty boy.” Suddenly icy-cold metal ensnared his wrist with a resounding click, the practical bite of metal entrapped his hands past his knees and locked his knees to his chest. It felt like a bucket of cold water to Tony as he realized precisely the predicament he was in.

Sweet mother of mayhem. Handcuffed. Doubled over like a limber leather-clad package (later, he’d be SO grateful for Bruce’s haranguing him to practice Yoga) with his pants tugged part way down his thighs, only his briefs-covered ass exposed, his length jutting lewdly in the air and his blushed balls hung heavy, engorged and oh so vulnerable.

On top of that, he found something very interesting about Loki’s helmet: Laying like that, it was hard as HELL to turn his head, and awkwardly heavy to raise it. He found himself staring at his ceiling… and, yeah, MAYBE the mirror was tacky according to Pepper’s long-held beef against his tawdry decor piece, but right then, he was seeing what a succulently shameful sight he is making… dressed as Loki. And that mind-breakingly sexy god as Iron Man in hot pants, sweet mercy. It was too fucking delicious.

Even if he DID look a little weird laying hugging his knees with his best bits dangled out in display. Just… hanging. Neglected. And here was the problem. Loki was just languidly indulging in surveying his handiwork, smiling wickedly with his hand trailing southward to stroke over his own still entrapped arousal.

“Oh, please. People have tried for years to stop my bad habits. How do you think you’ll change anything? I’m a bad boy, through and through.” Well, he may as well play along… if he didn’t, he was sure his balls would burst from neglect.

Slowly, a wicked grin slithered across those sensuous lips as Loki began to stroke his fingers over the exposed cotton covered globes of the inventor’s ass, admiring the firmness as if he could feel the definition through the metal gloves, kneading slowly and squeezing to test the muscle.

The stubborn human stuck to his guns, intended to fight the urge to squirm against the groping hard grip, or release needy sounds. He’d maintained his dignity with his chin held… well, as high as he could, considering that blasted head piece. He was resolute.

For about five minutes. Then, he completely lost it as that shameless sorcerer began to PULL on his briefs… and not down. Up. Maddening and deliberately, the black abused material started to creep within the valley of his backside. Bit by bit, the soft cotton cloth began to gather, bunching into a firm form pressing against his quivering pucker. And there was NOTHING Tony could do to stop it. That helplessness, that sense of frustration, it only made his length drool eagerly even as he squirmed and growled.

“Loki… Loki! Damnit… that’s not even fun-gah!”

Cold metal struck bared flesh in a lazy swing, painted a pale red handprint upon one of the exposed globes of Tony’s ass, stinging and rendering an amusing perfect circle in the palm.

“Fuckin’ hell! Did you just sp-ahn!” Stubborn words were cut off by another swat, planting a second handprint upon the tender skin with enough force to rock the bound mortal. Loki continued with a devilishly delighted smile as he proceeded to pepper Tony’s vulnerable rump with carefully controlled strikes, admiring the designs created by the metal glove in rosy tones upon the mortal’s backside.

So fragile, so beautifully colorful were mortals, and he positively delighted in seeing how pliant, yet strong his precious little Engineer was. How it took nearly fifteen minutes and but the barest of brushes against those exposed hanging testicles in the midst of a swing before the mortal finally fell obediently quiet save for harsh huffed pants and low delicious moans.

“There…there, now. Punishment is very good for you, my prized mortal. It enables you to mend erroneous ways. You are behaving so VERY well, now.” Those cooed words spoken with a velvety soft tone struck Tony clear through to his libido, and helpless as he was, and throbbing unspeakably upon his exposed backside, he was damn near ready to blow his load. All it would take would be one more swat, just ONE touch and he’d be creaming all over the place like an eclair squeezed too hard.

“Oh… oh god… Loki...” The engineer choked upon his own breath, heart skittering like a playful puppy as cold metal fingers that bore a surprising care and precision collected his throbbing aching plump plums that hung heavily with their weighty burden. He’d do anything, ANYTHING for relief, and the mere thought just added to his painful arousal. Humiliation kink? Check!

“Please… please Loki… I need...” Slowly, his prized pair were rolled in their loose-skinned sack, each slight motion blinded Tony’s senses in painful pleasure, overstimulation wiping his mind clean of thought as his entire world became focused upon those gloves that could put him in such injury and agony, and yet… he did not think twice in his trust in the Trickster. He thrilled in the danger, and currently common sense was out on a smoke break as cold metal and pulsing warm repulsors careened him headlong into a fast climax.

“You need to wait, my dear mortal,” murmured the God of Chaos with a soft cooed sound of wicked amusement in his voice, before he suddenly shifted his grip slightly, and Tony stared to see him removed a pale hand from the glove.

Yes, yes YES!

And those fingers carefully began to close the glove's one by one to create a metal pulsing prison about the throbbing deeply reddened figs, being acutely careful to tighten the metal digits to prevent release.

No...no no NO!

Immediately Tony began thrashing like a hog-tied rodeo bronco, unintelligible but a creature of primal desperation… that was, until Loki released the glove, and the weight tugged mightily upon his captured scrotum, bobbing heavily and erratically with Tony’s every movement until he was veritably swimming in a vertigo of overwhelming sensations so that he couldn't tell pain from pleasure.

He was blissfully unaware of the large puddle of pre dripping copiously upon his torso in a viscous string from his engorged quivering tip of his length.

It was in this moment of overwhelming dizzying stillness that Tony felt something, a soothing cool stroke of fingers along his heated cheek, and more than ever he longed for that comfort. Mercy… he needed mercy SO fucking much!

Mercilessly tender eyes stared down to Tony from above, and the Mad God looked positively beatific, like a generous deity of lore that would greet a person kindly before ripping them apart limb from limb.

“There, there. You are doing so very well, my precious prize. Look above, where you can see how beautiful you are.” As if ordered, watery brown eyes rose to the mirror, and found himself locked upon the sight presented. Was his ass truly that red? Like he’d sat in raspberries. His balls, trapped within the grip of his own creation, peaked in beautiful burgundy red tones like a summer apple.

And his face. Gone was Tony Stark the industrialist, powerful genius. No… he was something else. His wits were allowed to rest, his pride set aside. His money meant nothing because… he was the object of amusement to a god, his body nothing more than a toy of the highest caliber to be twisted and played with until he came completely apart.

Reality slammed home into Tony, snapped him back into himself as he felt a sudden tug below that pulling the cloth tight against his entrance and it drew a hiss from Tony until the fabric gave, leaving him utterly and truly exposed.

“Damnit, Loki, I’m going to have to have a word with you about tearing my clothing!” Words of bravado aside, there was a small quaver to the male’s voice.

He felt completely vulnerable as cool air greeted the twitching furl of muscle, fingers of metal and fingers of flesh, both impossibly strong and unforgiving, pried his cheeks apart as Loki took a moment to indulge… admiring the quivering pink muscle that quavered under his scrutiny, delighting how it fluttered and clenched tightly with eagerness blended with alarm.

Needless to say, it was certainly awkward on Tony’s part, as a stubborn realization clambered over his achings and needs.

“Uh… thought I was going to top… Bambi...”

“Oh? Did you think I would lay down and spread my legs like a common whore?” The god of Chaos murmured as he reached out to carefully tuck the large metal glove and it’s tender prize against Tony’s hip, evoking a sharp yelp and a buck from the mortal as it tugged and jostled his swollen plumped balls, fueling the fire he’d managed to JUST begin coping with like a bucket of gasoline. That pulling! He swore, his balls were going to be hanging lower, permanently after that.

“Fuck Loki!”

“Yes, yes… soon we shall, my impatient pet. To top me… you must EARN that privilege. For now, I have you precisely how I want you. Well, nearly.” Crawling like a boneless, shiny scrap covered cat, the sorcerer slunk off the bed before he grasped Tony’s hips and pulled him towards the edge before the god sank to kneel upon the hard floor with the soft clanking of metal from the boots.

Confusion, anticipation, and unease danced a merry jig together within the genius’ mind as he basked in the impending reality of what would happen. Well, Loki DID promise to practically fuck him inside out like a cheap love sleeve. And much to his confusion, he could feel Loki pawing under the leather, feeling for… SOMETHING.

“Uh… Bambi… what are you...” Words trailed off in a sound of surprise as the mischief maker plucked free the engineer’s Stark Phone. Well, he DID introduce Loki to his technology… he should have seen that on the horizon. Further colour rushed to tint his face as cold metal fingers pried his cheeks apart to expose his tight pucker.

CLICK.

“I am capturing this moment to commemorate the last time your entrance will this tight for a long, long time.”

Tony's cock twitched so hard it evoked a belly clenching grunt even as his pale pink entrance cringed tight enough to break glass. Unable to watch, he closed his eyes but he felt only more acute with his senses… especially every faint brush of air over his voyeurized entrance.

CLICK.

“Holy shit! What are you capturing NOW before you wreck it?!”

A long silence followed, a faint whisper of movement before warm air sighed against his paranoidly tight ring of muscle.

“Your lovely face, burdened with lust and fear.”

Wet warmth flicked over the wrinkled flesh.

Like a cat splashed with water, Tony yowled and bodily jumped despite his bound position from the positively strange sensation. Breathing slowly, he forced himself to calm before that tongue flicked out once more, and again. Tony squirmed and twitched at the teasing sensation as that skillful tongue began with light feather teasing licks before bearing down with more pressure until the sinful muscle was veritably massaging around and around his suspicious sphincter to coax it to trust.

This wasn’t Tony’s first rodeo involving anal, though it was with a man… receiving, to be honest. He’d had his fling with a particularly devious dominatrix who proudly wielded a strap-on that turned him into a begging mess within a matter of fifteen minutes.

An old fear lingered in Tony’s mind, remnants of an era he’d been raised in, and fostered by his own insecurities. He was about to be invaded. By a man. Anally barged into. He’ll be sheathing the sorcerer’s wand.

Well, that last mental image would have earned a snort in a less distracting time. As for the moment, he felt that old hesitation, that sense of lingering need to assert his manhood melting away like a bitter ice cream with every lick and draw of that devilish tongue.

Opening his eyes, he stared up to the mirror, stared to the bizarrely arousing sight of his roasted turkey bondage position and Loki… sweet mercy… lapping his ass like a cat would tasty cream, probing and pressing with testing teases against the pucker.

Maybe that wouldn’t be TOO bad, right?

  
“Oh, my precocious little mortal...” Breathed the deity over the glistening twitching hole before that supple lithe form leaned back to observe his captive prize. “...have you truly been devoid of male companionship? Have you never been taken?”

A sharp remark that spawned to life on Tony’s tongue faltered and died in his throat as he observed Loki trailing his freed hand lower along a pale belly to palm languidly over the obscene form of the Mad God's sex that strained those metallic shorts. Like a cat, Loki arched with a low hiss of delight as he rolled his hips in a sensuous arch, and further, what Tony had thought was a full hard on began to blossom beyond what the engineer expected in bulk, leading the mortal to a startling realization that Loki had only been HALF hard before.

Hungry mystic green eyes greedily stared to Tony’s hole, objectifying him by focusing only on that ONE spot as that deft graceful hand continued to stroke himself. An uncut rosy red tip began to peek up from under the gold band upon the waist of his shorts, sprouted like a crimson mushroom from the tacky fabric until the genius saw deft fingers peel the protective flesh ring away to reveal a disturbingly plump tip the size of a kumquat. Lust glistened like a teardrop upon the slit tip before it was smeared in a lustrous sheen.

Tony’s eyes widened.

An amused pout graced Loki’s lips as he continued to stare with his eagle eye focus. “Oh Norns, how you have tightened again. No… that will not suffice at all.”

“Loki… Look, I’m just… not sure if I can handle...” The mortal attempted to backpedal verbally even as Loki began to gesture oddly into the air.

“Is this your first time to be breached?” The inquiry, bless his tainted soul, was not a biting jab, but a question of genuine interest, almost casually spoken.

“By a guy… uh… yeah.” Tony quirked somewhat within his position, self conscious in a way he’d rarely felt before.

“Oh? Then how have you been invaded otherwise? I am curious to know.” A soft rhythmic rustle could be heard, like the shuffling steps of an executioner as Loki continued to stroke himself through the fabric.

Holy fuck, it was porn, plain and simple. Tony was going to have to hunt for Jarvis’ passive video files later when he wasn't so terrified, horny, and in delicious agony… or was it painful arousal? He couldn't even tell any more.

“A…. uh…. strap on queen.”

This halted Loki’s hand and momentum as he merely settled Tony a decidedly odd look as if he’d said something completely out of context. Mercifully, the engineer’s befuddled mind grasped the realization. The media icon cleared his throat, self consciously aware of how his then cold and WET feeling anus twitched with a quivering clench as he spoke words laced with a rare reluctant embarrassment.

“A...uh, dominatrix… domineering woman… with a strap on. Y’know… phallus device she wears to fuck men sense...less...”

Tony’s words trailed off because there, RIGHT there, he saw Loki abruptly tense with a hiss, gripping himself as he closed his eyes. The god’s lips parted: kissable sinful lips that spoke such wickedness, for a quavered betraying breath to be drawn as those thin fingers gripped his partially hidden length to stave off a nearly wasted rush of lust.

Sight and coherent thought frolicked away from Tony as his body jerked and bucked, sent into a dry edge of a denied orgasm from merely that sight of Loki nearly losing control. Sweet baby Jesus on a cracker.

“Loki… fuck… oh god… please… I’ll do anything… anything… just please… gotta come...” Did he sob those last words? No! Tony would never admit it! It was… a dramatic waver in his voice.

Suddenly metal and flesh hands gripped Tony’s buttocks, pulling his abused globes lasciviously wide as Loki began to assault that pucker greedily, rubbing the wrinkled muscle relentlessly and delving to press it, saliva trickling and trailing over Tony’s still stinging ass in trickling trails.

The Merchant of Death was a quavering, quaking mess as Loki assaulted his sphincter with a wild ferocity, jostling his tormented jewels and rubbing his trapped cock against his belly as the Liesmith battered his back door relentlessly with that silver tongue. A garbled cry escaped Tony as that wet wiley muscle finally plunged within.

And then that glorious bastard sealed his lips around the wrinkled rosy ring after plunging his tongue deep within and began to suckle. No… SUCK! And not as in a dust buster variety. It was a vacuum to put TV tubes and Hollywood Blonde heads to shame.

Tony must have truly found religion, because he began speaking in tongues. Well, the truth of the matter was this: Loki’s combination of loudly wet and lewdly brutal slurping suction and his thrusting tongue flicking and circling that hole until it became silly putty for Loki and Loki alone… it shorted the brilliant Genius’ brain so much that he’d forgotten what his native language was. And so, he was then speaking in all the ones he knew, as well as a generous helping of gibberish.

He wanted more, craved more… his entire world boiled into his aching balls that begged to go supernova and his happy hole was merrily defiled in a way he’d never dreamed of.

More. More. More.

The word, so universal, was begged in every language Tony Stark knew as that nimble tongue withdrew and fingers began to delve within, to tease and explore those tender swollen velvety walls just within that tormented tenderized ring.

He wasn’t certain when, where, or how… or even which order of those, Loki had managed to shed that final glove… but while two fingers were rubbing and scissoring him to open just a bit more, he nearly jumped out of his skin as something glass and heavy was set down upon the floor with an odd CLINK.

Trailing woozy eyes up to the mirror, Tony stared to the bottle Loki was industriously opening single handedly. It looked to be a strangely long glass bottle yet smaller than a fist. The glass was obviously old, VERY old, and hand blown with curious lumping forms along it until dipping inward just before the flared base.

“Yes… yes… my sweet mortal… I shall give you more… ” On later observation, Tony would realize that Loki was obviously a bit breathless, betraying the level of will he was imposing to keep a level head, and how desperately aroused he was by their illicit games.

Three fingers were now prying into his hole with a delicious stretching burn, squirming and wriggling, demanding space as they rubbed his quirking muscles into submission, probing and prowling. When the ancient being pried the sealing top off of the bottle, Tony found himself enamoured by the heady, rich scent: amber, earthy, rich spices like an Egyptian oil shop. This scent drew Tony into a lull even as he began to feel the stinging ache of too many fingers doing TOO much in too small a space…

“HOLY FREAGHM!!” Sizzling hot pleasure blasted like Mjolnir’s electricity to zap through the mad mortal’s body, making him jump as he choked for breath, brown eyes wide, yet unseeing with the myriad of colours that danced over his vision in bold festivity.

His balls ached, his cock throbbed, twitching as it drooled pre in a substantial glob, and he felt torn apart by pleasure, caressed and coddled by pain. The human didn’t know up from down, day from night, or if he was still even alive.

Wait, check that. As Loki crooked his fingers and Tony was spasming in near frothing pleasure again, he KNEW he was alive.

Like a child with a toy, Loki delighted in making his precious mortal jump and spasm, teased around that bundle of nerves while thrusting his fingers in and out, making the proud mortal beg desperately before beginning the tortuous kindness all over again. He loved to see his human come apart like that, adored the dumbstruck, slackjawed, helplessly vocal state the genius inventor became with but the brush of one finger. And when desperation, need, sorrow, and pleading dressed those expressive features when he withdrew his fingers free of that velvety embrace, Loki found his heart clenching… and his cock twitching.

By the Nine, Stark was indeed a treasure.

Truly best of all, HIS treasure.

Desperate gibbered pleas and demands withered away as Loki tutted gently to his cuffed mortal, raising the bottle to allow the thick oil within to capture the filtering light.

“Now, now, my sweet Tony… my dear mortal… how terribly empty do you feel?” Loki inquired as he began to pour a bit of the viscous substance upon his fingers liberally before returning them to trace over that ring blushing from its recent toying. As the oil brushed sinfully warm over the twitching flesh, a low quavering coo escaped the engineer. Sensual encroaching tingling began to seep into the tender abused inner flesh, seeming to increase sensitivity even as aches and burning that had been lingering in the stretched passage melted away.

“Oh god… Loki… so empty, please...” Tony rasped with a guttural gasp, eyes half lidded as he simply stared upward to their images in the mirror, eagerly observing the extreme care Loki was exhibiting in tending to him. It was an addictively tender sight that rare few were privileged to witness.

“Ah, my poor greedy little pet. I will be happy to fill you.”

Affection and meaning, however, didn’t even reach Tony’s brain at that moment. His hungry gaze was devouring the sight of those long supple fingers that were appearing and disappearing repeatedly into his body, an act he could FEEL in its symbolic rhythm, and a dangerous part of him… the part that was the source of so many daring and frightening feats he’d performed, wondered exactly how FAR he could stretch, how many of those pale fingers could disappear into his body?

The oil certainly made the gliding incredible within him. Sakes alive! The more friction there was with the slippery aromatic substance, the warmer and more tingly it became, making him throb deliciously, positively hungry within that passage for more.

“Tell me, my lovely mortal… ” As the oddly lumpy bottle was raised, Tony’s eyes watched greedily, desperately as it approached between his legs where that cold smooth edge lightly touched against his heated needy rim. That delicious cruel bastard! How smugly he smiled as he circled the slippery glass teasingly around that pucker… watching it flutter, opening and closing like the mouth of a hungry bird, desperate to be fed.

This sight moved Loki’s hand faster in stroking himself through the sparkling smooth red material as his words were whispered with a seductive husky command. “TELL me… what you want.”

  
A last chance to refuse, a final opportunity to save his ass.

  
Slowly, those pale fingers tugged those shimmering shorts down, and what could only be described as a divine scepter came bobbing out with a hefty girth rather impressively. Well, considering Loki’s height… and he WAS from a land of gods and manly men among men, yeah. And if his info was right, Loki was supposedly a Giant. To someone Tony’s size it bordered somewhere between impressive and frightening, especially with the heavy balls swinging pendulously beneath.

To hell with pride and manly expectations.

“Fuck me Loki… fill me up with everything you got!”

Much to the genius’ delight, that veined beast twitched in eager acknowledgement, a nod of agreement, as it were, to the engineer’s words.

That bottle’s mouth plunged in, evicting a gasp out of Tony’s throat and made him arch as cold and warmth assailed him in a confusing, thrilling blend. Now… NOW Tony knew good and well why the odd shape of the bottle because his capricious god was slowly beginning to fuck him with it. His pucker popped and swallowed over those bulbous ridges as the divine pervert pulled back and pressed further, maddeningly invading each shove deeper by one smooth bulge.

It was a blessed thing that the room was utterly soundproof, because Tony gave wild erratically quavered yelps with each tug that made his tender ring pop rapidly along those curves, rendering him jerking with each tug, moaning deliciously with each push deeper. He could feel the dribbling of the oil as it escaped into his body, however, not quite enough had escaped the bulbous glass shape, he realized, because of the angle.

“Yes, let me hear you sing, my pet. Hold nothing back. I shall pry your body apart to accommodate me, I will fill you until you are near bursting with my seed.”

Tony could only moan a mongrel semblance of articulation as Loki reached forward to tug the horned helm off, dropping it to the nearby floor with a ringing clatter. He raised Tony’s hips to tilt his lower body high to watch the oil begin to glug and dribble slowly into the mortal’s body before Loki began to rock the bottle, carefully aiming it in a particular tilt until…

“Gyanammidholeeeefughrd!” Tony belted out a loud garbled attempt at English as Loki began to pump that bottle industriously in and out of his body, working more of the oil in with the slick squelching pistoning of the device as his loosening ring made staccato gunfire fleshy faint pattering sounds. He bucked and arched like a bound hellbeast as that contoured form ground along his prostate with the presses and tugs.

Deeper and deeper, wider and wider the bottle worked that snug hole until Tony’s insides felt positively drenched and warm with oil… almost as much as his groin from the dribbling slippery trails that have drizzled to coat his throbbing, reddening, ignored length. His bound tight balls were beginning to look a lovely maroon hue of desperation, the skin taut and shining over the straining treasures.

Once more Tony was rendered desperately empty as the bottle was discarded nearby, cold air drifting over the slightly gaping stretched ring exposed lewdly between his spread cheeks.

Before the famed hero could beg to sooth this horrible emptiness, something blunt and warm, pressed to his oil slicked cleft and began gliding slowly, maddeningly back and forth and to torment the engineer by rubbing over that quavering hole in passage. Once. Twice. Thrice. It was an endless oroboros of motion and each pass made the genius growl and groan in desperation and frustration.

Tony Stark was begging. Unabashedly.  
Even saying please.

Hold the presses… it was a miracle.

And that damn demon of a devilish god was getting his jollies by making Tony fall utterly apart in a flustering floundering mess as that dangerously girthy, blunt tip filled between those oil glistening cheeks and massaged over his quaking entrance, teasing what Tony needed, wanted, craved JUST outside of his reach.

“JUST FUCK ME, DAMNIT!”

Blunt heat invaded that protective ring of muscle with a demanding shove, stretched the wrinkled, flushed flesh until it strained with a shining tension as Loki burrowed that fat crowned tip into his mortal.

“Ah… ah… oh god… big… so big...”

Reaching up to tug off that helmet in a need for less confinement, ebon hair fell in wild waves and curls as Loki panted heavily, closing his eyes with a desperate attempt to control himself.

“Patience… patience….”

By the Norns, the mortal was so tight and hot! It took every ounce of his self control to not simply burrow in feral pounding into that pliant heat. A little pain was fun… however, he had no intention of breaking his precious treasure due to his carelessness. Finally, once he’d tamped down his strength that could literally tear through the human, the sorcerer gave a careful small thrust. Like a song in harmony, both man and god moaned low as that veined beast pressed deeper into that gripping sinful velvety heat.

Tony felt like he must have been splitting open, of COURSE he’d pick a sexy GIANT to be his first male anal adventure. But sweet mother of mayhem, for as much as his body protested, he found himself riding a thrilling high: knowing that bit by bit he was being plundered by a man visibly holding onto his control by a tenuous thread.

And, being Tony Stark, he wanted nothing more than to tug on that string until Loki completely unraveled.

“I feel like I’m tearing in half...” Ah, those thin lips pursed, green eyes closing and Tony could FEEL that turgid length throbbing within him twitch in response to his words.

“...might not be able to walk tomorrow...” By sheer luck the engineer didn’t bite his tongue as those slim hips suddenly jerked with a slightly small buck, evoking a breathless gasp from the inventor. Chocolate toned eyes watched a bead of sweat trickle slowly, sensuously down Loki’s cheek to curve along his jaw to the column of the god’s neck, a path he’d have given anything to trail with his tongue.

“You troublesome mortal...” Loki rasped with a smoky low voice as he slowly began to draw his hips back.

“You’re really going to wreck me...” A sudden hard thrust jarred Tony, jostling his voice and thoughts as he FELT that intruder impale him deeper, prying his inner body demandingly open.

“...Norns...” Another shaky shallow thrust.

“Stuff me like a holiday turkey...” Followed by another hard thrust accompanied by a low growl, skidding him slightly further on the bed until a pair of long fingered hands gripped his hips and dragged him back like a beast would its prey it intends to devour. It took him a moment to blink the stars littering his vision, only able to hear, to feel for a moment as Loki gave stuttering desperately shallow thrusts to try to maintain his self control.

“Fuck… is that your dick, or your arm in me?”

SNAP.

He could practically hear that proverbial thread break.

A sharp hissed breath was drawn.

Those slender fingers clawed to grip his hips.

Then all hell broke loose.

Vaguely aware of being picked up as if he weighed nothing more than a bag of packing peanuts and the world spinning dizzying fast until he was trapped facing down on Loki’s chest with his length and those throbbing aching balls ensnared in the gauntlet snugly secured between their bellies. And then the world around him rattled as his bent trapped form began bobbing as Loki was thrusting that fleshy spire… no… HIM to take it deeper and deeper until flesh slapped against flesh as he hilted out.

He was being used as a fuck toy.

Nothing more than a very vocal cock sleeve to the god, and sweet mercy, it was such such a turn on.

His mind, however, was unable to fully appreciate that at the moment, considering that each tug PULLED on his trapped sack, making blinding lights bleed across his eyes and a brain melting blend of agony, pleasure, and STIMULATION raced through his body, making him quiver and ripple over the blunt flesh that bore him wider and wider.

Grunts, mewled moans, and wet slurping slick fleshy friction filled the silence, accented with gasped breaths and rustling leather. And one word, chanted with a fervent guttural tone by the God of Madness.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine...”

When Loki shifted his grip, altering Tony’s position slightly, the mortal yelped rhythmically with breathless cries as his prostate was pounded, ground against directly.

Vaguely, he was aware of once, or twice, a helplessly fruitlessly empty near orgasm gripped his tortured body, however, the god rutting him on his divine rod merely moaned louder as the velvety heat clenched tightly each time, rippling deliciously.

Finally, as Tony seized in thwarted climax again… drooling liberally from slacked jaws upon the deity’s chest, that powerhouse of a man gripped Tony tightly as he buried himself to the hilt as he filled that hungry hot space with his liquid lust while roaring out one single word.

“MINE!”

Slowly, he rolled his hips with a slight shudder to press deeper, grinding that hidden bundle of nerves to make the mortal thrash and spasm and milk the deity’s divine essence.

Wracking hiccups… NOT sobs (Tony Stark did not sob), were drawn from the still bound mortal as the God of Chaos veritably melted with cooed hums of contentment, stroking long fingers through sweat slicked mussed brown hair.

“There, there…” The ancient being tutted gently, coddling the trembling tormented bundle of an engineer close to his chest. “...you did well, very well.”

Slowly, the merciful god reached up to the handcuffs and effortlessly tugged, breaking the links. With a desperate groan, the inventor unfolded stiffly with joints aching, limbs trembling as Loki slowly rolled them in a soft rustle of sheets, careful to keep himself embedded within that abused entrance. With a casual wave of his hand and a flitting of magic, both of their clothing vanished, boots even, to appear neatly organized in the chair near the bed.

Like a lazing cat in the sun, Loki languidly admired the mortal sprawled on top of him, twitching and tense. Muscles danced, tight despite his boneless position under the gently tanned flesh. His mortal. So very beautiful was this anomaly among humans, especially in such states of succulent torment. Rolling their bodies over, Loki raised himself to better appreciate his precious human.

Slowly, those limber hands trailed over the heaving chest, brushed those peaked flushed nipples before he trailed them around the metal rim embedded in the human’s chest, the soft blue glow both soothing and alluring.

“My beautiful mortal. Such a treasure I have found in you. You are mine.”

Trailing southward those exploring digits stroked over the richly flushed length, tracing a feather light touch over the pronounced vein standing in stark definition upon the flesh. Loki, however, found himself amused, entranced by trailing his fingers in slow wicked circles over the bared spongy tip. As he slathered the gathering slickness to shine over the mushroom cap, he could not help but find it an interesting look… bereft of that flap of skin more universal among other realms. Unusual, yet certainly precious.

“I look forward to exploring your body at my leisure, my pet. I will delight in finding your every secret.”

An unintelligible sound replied to those tender words as the mortal squirmed, moaning and arching his hips as the inventor’s quavering hands drifted to the glove still gripping his maddeningly aching Stark Jewels.

Batting the desperate hands away, Loki delved to the amusing task of prying those metallic fingers off one by one… drawing a hissed breath of air as those greedy green eyes locked upon the bared fruit, even as a low quavering moan of mingled relief and torment escaped the mortal.

Plums.

The poor human’s scrotum was swollen, distended slightly from the weight and tugging of the heavy glove, and a beautiful shade of deep red with a hint of purple to it, the supple skin taut and shining, and he could see the dull rhythmic throbbing from the sheer tension and tortuously trapped arousal.

CLICK.

At this point, Tony didn’t care about anything in the room, the world, the universe. His balls were freed of their tormenting prison, pulsing and aching beautifully, and even the feather light touch of those admiring fingers ghosting over it caused Tony to roll his eyes back as his jaw dropped open with but the barest of moans escaping his throat.

“You fruit, may I say, look deliciously ripe and sweet.” Loki cooed as he caressed and gently lifted that proudly plumped pair to nestle into his mercifully cool palm. Like a living thing with a heart beat, a small mammal or bird, he could feel the warm rounded forms throbbing in his palm. So fragile. So lovely.

He’d not entirely softened after his initial savage rutting… no, his was a libido that was worthy of the godly immortals. Not to mention he’d been woefully lacking in carnal delights in far, FAR too long. So, to see Tony so helpless, needy, near breaking and having the legendary playboy’s very virility in hand… well, it certainly was enough to make him ready to further his amusements.

Tony was close… SO close to blissful sweet release, and he could think of nothing more than that glowing horizon cresting with pleasure and eventual post orgasmic peace.

However, that was obviously not the goal in Loki’s mind as the god began a slow, sensually smooth pace within Tony, long slurping draws gliding gracefully in his slippery hole with maddening tender care. That’s not what Tony wanted! What he needed!

He wanted that lethally fast Autobahn route to careen him into into the utopia of pleasure, and the God of Fucking Mischief was taking the scenic route. And how the HELL could he be that hard and raring to go so soon?!

“Loki...” Tony groaned as he squirmed under the God, however, those long lean limbs had him well caged, that lean torso dropping to his own as Loki nuzzled to his neck to begin suckling languidly, lewdly slurping the salty sweat slicked flesh without a lick of shame.

Tony’s cock throbbed, his balls ached in rebellion and demanded like a Union rally.

“...dying here, Loki… just fuck me...”

“All in good time, my pet.”

Tony would seriously have to consider visiting a shrink because he was not going to have much sanity left.

Especially since Loki managed to drag out the slow tender fucking for well over fifteen minutes, abusing Tony’s throat until he’s sure it was near the colour of his poor balls, and the asshole had PURPOSEFULLY been avoiding his little joy button in there.

Weary, and feeling that deliriously desperate edge slowly beginning to wane, Tony simply slumped limply on the blankets, realizing that THAT… that must surely be what infinity felt like because, damnit, Time was NOT a constant.

Just when he’d finally relented to complacently going crazy in an odd cocktail of hoping despair, sharp teeth sank into Tony’s shoulder, evoking a loud yell of shock at the pain. Reaching up to grip that wildly curling dark hair, he snarled at the man shuddering from the abrupt clench that the mortal’s tortured body spasmed around him with.

“Fuckin’ Asgardian Asshole!”

Like a shot at the Kentucky Derby, Loki was off to the races! He began to rut with snapping bucks of his hips, jarring with sharp thrusts into the engineer who yelped and grasped with desperate scrabbles, clinging for dear life to the lean shoulders of the God. Each strike home felt like a spanking to his still tender ass, those swinging, pendulous, divine orbs battering the inventor’s bottom as the Aesir rutted with strength well beyond a mortal.

The creaks of Tony’s bed, the loud abusive slappings of skin on skin, the wet squelching friction and the cries of desperation filled the air, Tony’s voice hitched sharply as Loki tilted his hips to begin GRINDING against his lover’s prostate with that inhuman force.

“MIne!” Loki snarled like a possessive beast as he latched his jaws about the human’s throat to bear down with bruising force, breaking skin and drew blood.

Explosively, that long denied orgasm raged like that very bomb Tony lobbed at the Chitauri… preluded even by that breath-stealing silence before the rush of sound and FORCE rocked through him, rending every nerve, tore every muscle, rattled every bone as white hot PLEASURE burst from him to blot out everything in the world.

Fucking magnificent orgasm.

He could feel hot slickness jetting across his belly and chest, coating their skin as Loki continued to piston mercilessly into that quivering, powerfully clenching, velvety sheath where Loki pressed constantly and forcefully against that abused prostate, milking Tony’s releases in shuddering ragged-voiced gasping spurts.

Spindly strong arms gripped about the inventor as Loki growled into the bleeding, bitten skin of his prey’s throat, drawn to his release with a merciless relentlessness and a victory he could taste as clearly as the sweat and blood upon his tongue.

As a brilliantly addictive afterglow began to enwrap Tony’s body to turn his bones to jelly and nerves to hum in blessed contentment, he could FEEL so much. The warmth and weight of Loki covering his body. The blankets tangled in his legs splayed awkwardly wide. That thick throbbing hardness nestled within his interior, stretching him wide. Possibly having nudged his organs to accommodate that impressive invading size until a final hard thrust that clacked his teeth until they ached.

The twitching and pulsing pressure within… the FEEL of Loki’s virile sticky bounty being buried within the mortal’s body could be felt. And it seemed to go on and on, but that MUST have been Tony’s imagination.

When that tensed lanky body melted over him, Tony reached up to sling a leaden arm over Loki’s waist, unable to help but smile at the feel of the sorcerer lapping his wound like a kitten, that tongue an odd counterpoint to the delicious sting.

Okay. Mind blowing orgasm was completely worth the bizarre abuse to his balls.

And the feel of the content God of Chaos snuggled close to his body made EVERYTHING up until this point worth it.

Lazily stroking that long raven hair, he drifted in a hazy contentment, a smile unable to help but take residence upon his lips as the man who’d nearly kicked him over the brink of insanity was amiably nuzzling his head in the crook of Tony’s shoulder and neck.

“Well, that was fun. How about you?” A soft hum from the God of Mischief vibrates warmly against the mortal’s sun kissed skin.

“An enjoyable round, to be certain. I will enjoy further games with you.”

The genius’ smile faltered slightly.

“Round?” Wincing slightly, he raised his head to peer to the ceiling and their STILL joined bodies. Somehow, he’s reminded of mating dogs, and that thought was briskly banished from the residence of his mind with a HELL NO.

Groaning, he dropped his head back, closing his eyes as he wriggled slightly, feeling that impressive girth still embedded in his tender channel.

“Yes. I am a bit… eager. It has been some time since I have enjoyed such carnal acts as a male.”

“Long? How long? A couple of months?” Tony inquired as he peered to the deity lazily trailing a finger along his jaw, unsettlingly flirtatious.

“A little over a hundred years.”

Oh sweet mother of mayhem.

~~~

Something should be said about Aesir… or Jotun… physiology and libido.

Well, actually, Tony Stark had a lot to say about said topics. However, little of it was in scientific scholarly terms, and none of it was remotely polite.

Loki was relentless.

That was a SHIELD profile description, and one hell of an understatement.

He was now dubbed the God of Rabbits by the playboy because, honestly, the genius lost count. He could ask Jarvis later, but in the meantime, he was unable to care. That is, partially due, to the number of times he’d been either fucked senseless or completely passed out.

And the deity had no qualm in rutting him in his unconscious state.

Oh, Tony balked. He’d raised his point after round three… or four. However, when Loki reminded him that Tony SAID “Fill me up with everything you’ve got” and Loki was going to hold him to his word.

The number of times alone would have been a mind bending feat of virility, stamina and creativity.

But the fact remained that Loki INSISTED they remained joined.

It was disturbing.

And, Tony would never admit it openly, weirdly hot.

Pain and Pleasure.

It roused Tony from his exhausted state of unconsciousness, sluggishly, reluctantly.

First of all, there was a sensation he was beginning to know ALL too well, the God of mischief toying with his dangling balls. At one point, he’d have SWORN they’d been broken, but as Loki continued to constantly manage to revive life into the aching organs, the engineer must assume they were surviving, if reluctantly. He wasn’t sure if their swelling would ever go down, though… or if they were going to hang so low permanently due to all of the tugging and weighted dangling.

The next thing he felt was an amazing coldness against his front… his stubbornly aroused length, chest, knees and cheek pressed to it.

And lastly… something new. And odd fullness, a strange ache in his belly, and slowly, he managed to weave his hand blindly through tangles of skin and limbs and solid cold hardness to touch his belly.

He really hoped he wasn’t allergic to alien sperm.

Slow languid slurps, soft grunts drifted to Tony, rousing him finally to raise his head, gathering his wits and will enough to manage that feat even as it left it lolling back against Loki’s shoulder. Upright. They must have been.

“Lo… you’re killing me here...”

“This will be the last, my sweet pet.”

Pet. Yeah, they were going to have to have a talk about that. Preferably when Tony was coherent, and Loki’s dick wasn’t busy turning his back road into a super highway.

The promise, however, brought an edge of relief… though, he SHOULD have been concerned that it wasn’t a walloping truck load of ‘Praise God, My Ass is Saved’ relief. Maybe he was too tired to give a rat’s ass at the moment.

Peeling his crusted eyes open, the bone-weary mortal attempted to focus upon the world before him, almost half dreading where he was now, and wondering why it was so cool, despite how pleasant that felt.

He’d found himself taken on EVERY surface in his room, already… hell, he’d never use his sonic shower without getting a hard on again. Where was he THIS time?

Something dappled, starkly contrasting. Slowly, he blinked his eyes, clearing his irises to peer to the strange contrast of light and dark until it came into focus.

Lights. Lights on buildings. Building tops.

Immediately, the engineer yelped, squirming and scrabbling as a sudden rush of vertigo and surprise raced through his body with a jostling of adrenalin. And damn that perverse sorcerer, he lolled his wildly bedraggled-haired head back to breathe a positively sinful moan as the pleasant passage constricted with the human’s fright.

“Oh, yes… you ARE capable of being tight once more… yes...”

  
Clammy skin squeaked as Tony pawed blindly, heart racing as he found himself staring down a sheer drop to New York City before a misty ghosting before him snapped the genius’ mind back into coherence.

Oh.

Tony dropped his head with a dull thud against the wall of glass and grumbled something about Loki’s love of dicking with his windows.

This time, obviously, literally.

A hearty laugh from behind ghosted warm breath to fan across the mortal’s neck, raising the delicate hairs on the nape as a fine shiver slithered through his captive.

“You Asgardian Asshole.”

Mercifully, Loki took a half step back, allowing Tony to become better acquainted with his position and ease a touch of that lingering panic. The engineer felt like a human pretzel, and it took a moment for him to sort out the tangling of limbs, but he found himself hanging by his knees draped over Loki’s arms, his ass hanging unguarded for Loki to thrust up into, and his body wedged between Loki’s chest and the glass. His eyes dropped to his belly, however. It wasn’t as… well DEFINED looking as it normally is, that six-pack he’d fought to maintain in his encroaching years. It was looking a bit...bloated?

“L...Loki…. what the hell...” Suddenly the genius’ mind began to attack the confusion with a mathematical approach. If the god had released such an impressive amount of divine essence, and remained consistent… and if he’d REALLY been chain-fucking him like a kinky marathon...

“Consider it a generous donation to your cause, Stark.”

“So, you like me THIS much, Marquis De Sade?”

A low chuckle rumbled against Tony’s back, and he felt himself squirming unbidden as the god, who had NOT ceased rutting up into him all this time, placed a soft kiss against the side of his stinging, tingling neck.

“I truly should research these quaint references.”

“This one would be highly ill advised, Sir.”

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin as Jarvis murmured that cordial warning, the posh voice invading their lewd interlude ever so jarringly.

And as Loki’s breath hitched with how tightly he spasmed with a clench recalling THOSE stories, Tony shook his head in utter agreement.

“Uh… yeah… let’s not go there… so, last lap?”

He squirmed as he tried to find a means to continue that thrusting that would hopefully distract the deity, and he was rewarded as Loki continued his smooth rolling grinding, sliding in and out of Tony like a well oiled machine.

Speaking of oil, he’s going to have to ask Loki, because it had handled some impressive friction in there, and yet was just as slippery judging by the rhythmic slick slurping.

“Oh god, Loki…” Tony moaned as the deity pressed him bodily against the illicitly cold glass. “I’m gonna sleep for a week after this.” Tony groaned as he raked his fingers through the rats’ nest of curling hair behind him, his other grasping the god’s neck as every thrust rubbed his heated cock against chill glass, his dangling balls tap tap tapping against the cool surface with maddeningly delightful percussion.

God, he hoped Jarvis pulled up the tinting.

He could only imagine how he looked, squished like a bug with his penis pressed to the clear wall, tracing slimy lewd trails of pre. He must have been gaping like a fish. Or a wanton whore. Maybe a wanton whore fish. Either way, as Loki shifted his angle to finally pound HARD against his tender, doubtlessly swollen and over-abused gland hidden within, the mortal gripped tight to the god… HIS god’s head as he wailed, vaguely aware of the muffled thumps from the rhythmic force vibrating the windows.

Hopefully, when the bulletproof windows were installed in his lounge, they’d put them in his room, because THAT would have been an awkward sight to see.

“The world… sees… Stark… ”

Fuck, it was glass. See through. Someone could have been watching him.

“But… it shall… not… have him...”

Loki gritted the words out against his prized mortal’s ear as he rutted madly into the pliant captive form, growing harder in his thrusts until Tony felt himself growing closer to arousal, liberally smearing over the glass as he dug his nails into the skin of Loki’s neck. His poor ever tormented balls swatted harder against the glass, he felt as if they were being spanked, like one would an ill mannered child.

“For… you… are…”

He knew the word, he knew what was following, and Tony’s entire body tightened like a spring, readying for that one word Loki spoke, chanted, growled to him with each release.

“MINE!”

A crack trailed slightly through the clear surface, racing before the inventor’s rolled-back eyes as he suddenly bucked with a cry, humping his hips, desperately grinding himself against the window as his liquid lust burst free in milky ropes. He humped the window, legs bent, splayed wide and ground to stroke his twitching length with squeaks against the glass, to further paint in organic trails upon the transparent barrier that shielded him from a deadly drop.

Like a velvety vice, Loki found himself in heaven as his mortal quivered and clamped, that pried passage eagerly sucked his godly offering. He growled as he drew slowly from the tightly gripping ring until just his top corked the human's depths before thrusting hard and fast, slapping hard inward to milk every spurt he could manage to further fill, straining his pet’s belly.

“Loki… Loki… oh god, fuck….” Slurred words slipped free of the barely lucid mortal as he trembled violently, head lolling back as he felt completely and energy-sappingly EXHAUSTED.

He’d never felt so worn. Or so good. Or so full. Holy moly, he felt insanely, obscenely full, his strained belly pressed to the glass, making things even more awkward.

“...that’s it. I’m… all funned out.” The mortal rasped as he felt soft affectionate lips pepper kisses to his neck. Raising his leaden head, he turned his attention to his God of Mischief, peering with sated, half lidded eyes. And, much to his growing alarm, the cocky ass was SMILING… mercifully a bit weary, but it was a plotting devious smile. Tony KNEW that look.

He groaned low in frustration.

“Now what?!”

“Oh, but the finale, my sweet mortal.” Dread began to rise in Tony’s belly, melting his limbs even as those puppyish brown eyes widened.

“I thought that was?... You said...”

“Look down.”

As Loki leaned back once more, Tony stared to the gloriously, obscenely slimy painting upon the glass, trailing in an illicit string from his flaccid length that flopped free to hang like a man at the gallows below him.

He’d be lucky if he ever got an erection again.

“Further, Stark.”

Slowly, his gaze dropped to the toes of the god framing under him, and he could see…

“Wait a sec… is that...”

Tony began to squirm, twisting slightly in Loki’s hold as he stared to the object he’d caught sight of.

His StarkPhone.

On the floor.

Set on record.

“A little something to commemorate the event. I want for you to always remember precisely how much of my affection you’ve earned, my sweet mortal.”

And slowly, with a cruel deliberate motion, the God effortlessly began to raise Tony, providing the device that had been recording their creatively crude coupling a beautiful shot of his ravished hole slowly sliding up that glistening phallus.

“Loki… Loki! No… don’t.. it’s going… all that...”

“Then let us see...” The trickster murmured with a devilish mischief, nipping at the shell of Tony’s ear as he paused with that fleshy stretched ring desperately clinging to the flared head of his length. However, it was softening, and Tony could feel a thrilling dread, knowing what would inevitably follow. “... how well you can hold my affection in.”

  
A soft squelched pop echoed loudly in the room as Loki finally withdrew, and a bit of his creamy essence dribbled free, however, the stubborn mortal clenched for all he was worth, contracting his abused muscles to obey him.

But the pressure of an impossible amount of passion packed into his body was driving Tony to a mad desperation, and he began to grunt and squirm, fighting to lay back against Loki’s chest to ease the pressure on his belly.

“Damnit… Loki… you sick fuck...”

Drip… drip…. drip drip…

“I’m… gonna pay you back… in spades...”

“I look forward to your ingenuity, my precious pet.” Loki murmured as stroked his hand over the engineer’s tightly straining belly before pressing.

Milky whiteness, thick globules began to dribble out, dripping and then plopping to the floor as those fluttering, strained muscles finally threw up the white flag in surrender.

Tony had never felt anything so obscenely wonderful, so horrifyingly delightful than the feeling warm cum passing through his body, so shamefully dcadent as hearing it spatter wetly. His body gave a violent shudder as he sagged against the impossibly strong, impossibly comforting god that abused him senselessly, and made him love every minute of it.

And then challenged him, in the face of his humiliation and relief, to surpass him.

He was making a deal with the devil, and he was DAMN well going to get his golden fiddle out of it.

“Impressive as that may be, Sir, and I do feel remorse for the cleaning crew, may I advise rest to be in order? Miss Potts will be arriving within six hours.”

Tony sagged heavily in the God of Chaos’ arms, relieved and feeling oddly free, heavy yet weightless. Briefly, he glanced down to the puddle before wrinkling his nose.

“Fine… and send her a note to bring me a new StarkPhone.”

Dropping his head back, he peered to the deity holding him still in that awkward position, peering down with an affectionate weary smile… a polar opposite to the feisty fetish madman he’d been but moments ago.

“Thumper, because you’re responsible for this, you’re giving me a bath and we’re sleeping on the couch in the living room.”

Raising his head to scan sharp green eyes about the thoroughly debauched and sex stained room, smug pride drew his lips into a crooked smile.

“Agreed.”

~~~

“Good Morning Sir. It is currently 7:45 in the morning, the weather forecast is sunny and pleasant...”

“Stark...” A low voice murmured from beside the nearly comatosed Engineer, however, it didn’t even drift NEAR his consciousness. He simply burrowed himself closer to bury his face in clean soap scent and warm skin.

“Tony...” The voice continued, speaking a bit louder as a slender warm hand stroked his cheek with an affectionate gentleness. He began nuzzling the palm.

SMACK!

Like a dunking of ice cold water, Tony Stark jostled awake, chestnut eyes comically wide and mouth gaping slightly as he stared to the source of the now-stinging print upon his cheek. Touching the warm, smarting skin, he cracked one eye to look to the man… no, wait, woman, that woke him up ever so crudely.

“I’m going to murder your son.”

“You can’t.”

A low sigh escaped the genius before he leaned forward to rest his smarting cheek upon a proudly plush pair of breasts, humming as he nuzzled the pliant softness with a dopey smile.

“A machine can be destroyed.”

“Nah, if anyone kills him first… it’s me.”

A low, reluctantly amused grunt escaped the ebon-haired woman as she proceeded to trail tapered black-painted nails through his wild brown locks.

“But if it makes you happy, I’ll make all the backups for you to slaughter to your heart’s content.”

“I do wonder why I have not put myself on CraigsList until now.” The AI sighed with a disturbingly human sound of exasperation. This, of course, was nothing new to Tony Stark.

“Probably because SHIELD would snatch you up in a heartbeat. And you’d probably be miserable there,” came a wry mellow voice that Tony had NOT registered the source for. Raising his head, groaning and wincing as even THAT usage of his muscles invoked a body wide protest, he shifted slightly until he peered to a boyishly amused Bruce Banner sitting comfortably sipping an aromatic cup of Chai tea.

Well, THAT explained Loki’s more voluptuous form. Said god settled back down with an arm slung over Tony’s waist, tugging the blanket draping them more comfortably. Well, nice to know he’s worn the god out. All it took was wrecking his body and mind as a fuck toy.

He’ll need to schedule vacation time before he tries THAT again.

“Mornin’ Bruce. Bruce, Loren. Loren, Bruce.”

“You have introduced us already, pet.” The deity remarked with a stifled yawn against the back of Tony’s neck.

Yeah, that word woke Tony up before he glanced to Bruce smirking sheepishly… if that’s POSSIBLE.

“So, sleeping on the couch, but no customary clothes littered about. Should I be asking why?”

“It’s cozy.” The inventor replied with a wan grin. Oh, he wanted to be all big Tony Stark smiles to his science bro, truly, he did. But, damnit, he couldn’t at the moment. Not that he lacked the motivation. Even his face muscles were sore and weak.

“What is that divine aroma?” came the voice from behind Tony, Loren propping herself up finally to peer to Bruce’s steaming mug with interest.

“Chai tea… real Indian spices, not that ersatz junk.” Bruce raised his attention to thoughtfully observe how Tony seemed to be having a decidedly… awkward moment. His friend was many things. Awkward? That wasn’t the Stark Style. Something had him cautious. “The Captain told me last night that you enjoy making tea blends also?”

“Yes I do. How sweet of him to talk about me.” The pale woman stated as she sat up a little straighter before shifting slightly against her favourite mortal’s back, teasing her fingers along the back on his neck, delighting in watching the muscles twitch beneath her fingers and the tanned skin crawl. Realizing her distraction, she drew her fingers away before peering carefully to the softly smiling scientist observing with unwavering amusement.

“You’ve made quite an impression. Tony’s eating, sleeping more regularly, his health is improving, mood improving, and the End is Near because he’s actually making his meetings on time.”

“Bruce, you wound me. Right here.” The inventor tapped his finger with soft tinks of his nails against the glass of the arc reactor nestled in his chest.

“He’s even reigned in his alcoholism.”

“I… have?” The genius blinked slowly, looking positively befuddled before turning his attention to the woman behind him, ignoring his body’s angry aches. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone has to make the boring galas fun and the paparazzi twitter.”

“My dear little mad man, I am certain we can manage enough mischief for both situations without a drop of spirits.” As those wicked lips drew into a wicked smile, Tony felt a tingle warm under his skin, which began to meander…

“SOOOO, Bruce, partner to my Apple Dumpling Gang, what brings you here? Sorry I didn’t go out to terrorize the town with you kids last night...”

With an effort, Tony pulled himself to sit up, groaning like a winter-addled bear as he reached up to rub his shoulders. At Bruce’s wide-eyed look followed by a barely-muffled snicker into his hand, Tony merely raised his eyebrows.

“What, the hell, my nipples too perky in the morning or something?”

“Well, how shall I put this politely...” Bruce stated as he reached up to rub the back of his neck in thought. “Ah, I know. You look like a tribe of New Guinea geriatric cannibals tried to gum you to death, though a few may have had dentures.”

A low smoky laugh escaped the woman behind the inventor before leaning over Tony’s shoulder to peer to the man before them.

“Your meek facade veils a clever and playful mind. Such a shame you must hide so much.”

“Yeah, I’m just full of surprises.”

“ANYWAY…” Tony interrupted. “...not to bust your chat with my friend with benefits here, what brings you here? Pepper’s probably going to come tearing into my peace any moment with work junk.”

“Beware of Romulans bearing gifts.” The scientist intoned gravely, before grinning grandly, seeing the weary inventor perk. For a man who could have anything, everything… it really was surprising to see how he delighted in gifts. Maybe it was the sentiment that went into it.

Regardless, Stark ignored an obviously stiff body to sit up, peering to the large bag being placed upon the low table. Without hesitation, he sent the stuffing paper flying as he peeked from one object to the next. “Oooh… a private disc of Yoko Kanno? Pep must have told you I dug her blues and Jazz I heard while I was in Japan on business. Dunno how you talked her into it, but this is a gem.

As Tony plucked out a plastic container, an impish grin graced Bruce’s face as he peers to the cookies packing it within.

“What’s this? Oregano? Rosemary? Looks like someone’s been taking some herb baking lessons. Been trying to kick the junk foods, but I always have room in my arteries for your wholesome cooking, Bruce.”

He pauses as Loren began to hover over his shoulder, tapping lightly upon the bongos in the bag to listen to the sound. Slowly, those eyes drifted from the musical gift to the steaming mug within the good Dr. Banner’s surprisingly gentle hands.

“I made extra tea in case you’d like some, Loren. I have it in a Thermos in the kitchen.”

With the questioning look the lovely woman swiveled to the engineer, he smoothly clarified the cultural speed bump. “Still using the silver bullet to carry your drinks in? That thing’s gotta be older than you! I know it’s older than me.”

“You’re older than me.” The humble man quipped shamelessly, grinning grandly as Tony reached up to cover the lovely lass’ ears.

“Shhhh! You’ll ruin my youthful Stark Charm on her!”

As his friend rolled his eyes as he eased into the chair in that damnably bland checkered shirt, Tony lowered his hands from the woman feigning wry lack of amusement.

“I believe I shall indulge in your tea, Dr. Banner.” Blankets rustled as Loren began to shift, stretching before she rose to stand.

“Sweetcheeks, how about you take these cookies to the kitchen. Please? Pretty please? With sugar and a cherry on top?” The container of cookies was held out to the temptress with a slight shake, drawing her attention to the baked treats within before she raised her eyes to Tony and replied, with utter sincerity and serious honesty.

“I find I enjoy your plums so much more.”

Said plums throbbed in reply, grumpy to be disturbed this early in the morning, apparently, after such a wild night.

Tony cringed with a low groan, closing his eyes and clenching his thighs together until it passed.

He hardly realized, until Bruce cleared his throat, that Loren had slipped past and was padding languidly to the kitchen.

Wearing nothing save a slight stiffness in her step.

Well, good. Served her right for how stiff he-

Realization struck him like a wet fish across the face.

“Loren!” He called out, pointing to the hallway. “Go put clothes on!” So what if he chided her like a child? Served her right for (sexily) parading that (marvelous) ass in front of his dear friend with a small blood pressure issue. And by small, he meant Hulk Sized.

The inventor dreaded making that call to Pepper to requisition MORE repairs to the same room because Bruce popped a boner and heeeellooooo Hulk!

The scientist just looked warmly amused and unaffected as he calmly sipped his tea.

“Uh… so...”

“What’s on your mind, Tony?”

“Ugh, a Motrin-Vicodin cocktail and a pair of pants. But… y’know… don’t want to flash you.” A vague wave was made, a normally cocky movement stiff with sore muscles and tight joints. Walking was going to be sheer hell.

Settling the mug down calmly, the scientist leaned down to slip an arm around Tony’s love-mark adorned torso.

“Oh please. Like you haven’t seen me running around without pants. You’re usually the one bringing me clothes or blankets… it’s just time for me to return the favour. Now. Up you go.”

It wasn’t smooth. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Hell, Tony found UP a particularly daunting challenge, and it took them two tries to get Tony to his unsteady feet. He felt like a feeble foal, hobbling stiff legged with Bruce’s trusty support to make his way to his room.

And THEN he remembered, as they stood in the doorway with the sunlight glowing gently to reveal his room utterly WRECKED with debauchery. Hell, to Tony it looked surreal, and he was THERE for it. Well, most of it.

As the physicist's eyes roamed the room, Tony’s gaze followed: taking in the haphazardly tangled bed slanted at a suspicious angle denoting a broken leg; the sticky, slurried, painted cracked window with the impossibly massive pile of half dried seed; various walls, chairs, side tables and surfaces covered with sweat, oil, and obvious disarray. But the real kicker presented itself as the good doctor’s eyes trailed upwards. With a maddening calmness, he removed his glasses to polish the lenses with meek care before peering to the obvious signs of stickiness and a trailing of claw marks.

“You know...” Bruce finally disturbed the unsettling silence, his gaze still studying the debauched ceiling. “...that’s kinda impossible… and I AM that kind of doctor.”

As he dropped his gaze to Tony, the engineer merely met his gaze with eyebrows raised in a puppyish look, further amplified by his smooth shorn skin.

“Hey, I don’t remember THAT part. Literally. Mind blowing sex. I’m sure most of my grey matter is in that jizz puddle by the window there.”

“You know, if Natasha told me that joining the Avengers would be like joining a supernatural fraternity including pranks and unspeakable sex acts, I’d have seriously reconsidered my initial decision?”

“Yeah?”

A soft chuckle escaped the brunette beside the billionaire, a grand grin gracing the normally mild mannered man. “Yeah. It’s nice to know there’s people crazier than me. So… she’s a mutant, huh?”

Tensing beside his science bro, Tony snapped the bemused doctor a wary look.

“Did Pep say anything to you about it?”

‘“No.” Bruce stated simply, shaking his head. “But the pieces aren’t hard to put together, I DO read the news, and you make headlines internationally. ‘Tony Stark Becomes Prince Charming to New York Cinderella’. ‘Stark Law LLC investigates Mutant Rites’. ‘Stark Charity Foundation Makes Generous Donation to Xavier School’. Not to mention a few things I picked up from talking to the others.”

Mercifully, Tony’s rapidly thudding heart began to ebb in its frantic tapdanced rate of beating against his Arc reactor.

“Uh… wait.. I made a donation?”

A long silence settled between them before Bruce melted into a low breathy rumble of chuckles.

“You’re hopeless, Tony. Well, it goes a long way to explain all of THIS.” With a sweep of his hand, he gestured to the thoroughly abused room. “Hey, I’m not one to raise a fuss over it. I kinda fall under that ‘Mutant’ classification because of my… condition.” Bruce trailed off the word, an edge of shame.

“Oh green bean, it’s not an illness.”

“I turn into a grunting bulldozer.”

“Nah, it just means you’ve got bigger arms to give cuddles. Just means the big guy has to work on fine tuning his motor functions and training his moods. Think of him as a REALLY big child.”

“A child that breaks Harlem in it’s tantrum.” A soft gentle bitterness flavoured the physicist's words before he jerked as Tony poked his ticklish spot in the ribs.

“Oh please, it was half broken before.” The inventor snorted glibly with an off handed quip.

“Sir… may I mention that you currently have a mouse intruding within the ventilation network.”

A deep sigh escaped the inventor as he lolled his head aside to rest on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Why can’t he use the door, Jarvis, like REGULAR people?”

“Your floor was locked early this morning, Sir, and he is exhibiting concern that you have not responded to his earlier calls.”

“Then...” Tony rolled his eyes with a profound exasperation. “...tell him to call me. AGAIN.”

A moment later something began to hum… a muffled vibration and something making a thick wet noise. Slowly, both of their eyes trailed to the source, and that thick clumpy piled puddle of cooled jizz jiggled like a lewd pudding, a faint hint of an oblong shape peeking from the sticky mess.

Bruce Banner’s eyebrows shot straight up.

“Well, that explained why Pepper asked me to bring you a new phone with your schedule. Does she know about this?”

“God, no. I’ll need to find a hazmat renovation team before she visits again.”

With his compatriot’s rueful soft smile and shaking of his head, Tony held up his hand.

“Gimme your phone.”

“I’m afraid to know what you’ll do to it...”

“Hey!” snapped the playfully affronted genius. “I’m just going to sent Clint some messages!”

Utterly wary and bemused, the good scientist reached down to pluck his antiquated phone from his back pocket with a brief hesitation before he placed it into the genius’ hand.

“Sweet Newton’s Apples, Bruce… this thing still has buttons… and no internet? Can it even take PHOTOS?” Tony remarked with pity and dismay as he tapped away on the screen to see if the ancient thing still worked.

“It does what I need it to do. You don’t have to use it if you don’t like it...”

“No… no… this is fine. Just forgot how the paleolithic Nokia worked for a moment.”

Biting lightly on his tongue, Tony begins tapping away at the rubbery glowing buttons. The following conversation began to flow with soft beepy midi chirps of the ancient talking piece.

SRY MSSD MSG. BSY- TS

Why u on BB cel?

BROKE PHN

???

*pic CUMPANY-PHN.jpg sent*

DA FUQ?!

*pic SEX-BROKE-ROOM.jpg sent*

Da hell you DO?!!!

ORGY W/BB. ROOM 4 1 MORE

“Congratulations, Sir.” The AI droned with a prim posh pride.“The invading mouse is now moving in rapid retreat.”

Like a mischievous boy, Tony can only grin as the scientist snatched his phone away to peer to the screen with slightly squinted eyes. He paled suddenly. Then Bruce started to flush before he bowed his head as a fine jerking tremor began to go through his body, sending warning alarms through Tony’s head.

Oh hell… Pepper’s right. He’s SUCH an insensitive jackass.

“Uh… Bruce...”

“Do you… KNOW… the rumors… that will spread?” Strained… yes, that’s definitely strained in Bruce’s voice. Warily, Tony watched for hints of green to grace the man’s flesh.

“...Look… don’t be mad.”

“Who said I’m MAD?” Suddenly, like a dam breaking, Bruce started to laugh, soft gasping guffaws that threatened to send him into a fit of hiccups.

Tony decided to thank god. Oh, hell, he was Atheist. He decided he’d just use Loki as a substitute.

“Hey, it’s prime bragging rights. You’ll have the respect and fear of Agents all over.”

Hobbling free of the amused man, Tony stiffly limped his way to his closet to hunt for clothing. Every muscle hurt, burned, ached. His ass throbbed, sore both outside and in… and sweet mercy, his once tight and petite anus felt obscenely swollen and throbbing, and he’d SWEAR, as he could feel it rubbing with every step, that it must have been the size of one of those sugar dusted mini donuts.

Once in his closet, he began tugging out his most comfortable loose red sleeping pants and a t-shirt. He decided to go with silk boxers instead because his most cherished bits were fucking TENDER. Finally making his way to the mirror, he blinked, staring to his utterly debauched body. His tanned skin was utterly COVERED with red and purplish marks with numerous bites adorning his throat and shoulders.

His roaming gaze dropped to his groin, and sweet mercy, his balls were still a bit engorged and reddish, the skin looking subtly bruised. Probably from where they’d been battering at the window. Morbid curiosity wanted to drag his hand down, to inspect… morso, to hungrily see if they FELT more firm or plump, experience the tender throb from an utterly abused organ.

The thought alone made his pucker twitch, and that made him draw a sharp hiss. Unable to resist this trainwreck, the playboy turned before his mirror to bend over. Gingerly, Tony pried his ass globes painted with hand prints apart to survey that tender spot his imagination was running away with.

Sweet mercy! Like a beautiful deep red rosy ring, his pucker was decidedly swollen, shining from the stretched skin and VERY obviously abused. It was nearly terrifying to the engineer how the sight thrilled him… how entrancing it twitched like a living thing and pulsed with the beat of his blood flow. Loki did this. Loki had made his once forbidden spot such a sensually succulent sight that his desperately aching balls tingled, bringing a soft groan to the inventor.

No wonder why the ancient freak seemed to delight in watching his ass.

“So...” The inventor jerked, stiffening as he glanced to the empty doorway he heard Bruce standing waiting outside of. “...it’s good to be back. I thought I’d stay in India until the mutant registration thing collapses and General Ross isn’t trying to get his hands on me...”

“Oh please, Bruce. He’s just suffering from penis envy. He’s got a cheerio screwing toothpick next to the Hulk’s King Kong Dong.” With the muffled chuckle coming from outside the closet, Tony began to carefully, gingerly work his way into the boxers… and deciding to let the pants go to hell after the effort it took for the shorts.

“Yeah, sorry about the wait, took a moment to look over the damage. Loren’s a hellcat in the sack.”

“I can imagine.” Amusement laced the doctor’s voice. “I might suggest you engineer your next bed instead of going shopping. It will take something downright industrial to survive you.”

“Har har.” Bruce, of course, was right… SO right. And already, Tony’s thought were going into engineering manic mode. Considering what he could do in making the Iron Man suits, imagine what he could do with a bed!

Smiling, he tugged his shirt on and stiffly wobbled his way to the door to lean against it, gazing to the meek mannered man who stood with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Brucie, baby, you’re too good for me, you know that? You give me advice, bring tea for my princess… and gifts! No one brings me gifts… well, and means it. Jazz, Bongos...”Tony paused, blinking. “... and cookies.” No, that didn’t sound right. And Bruce was SMILING. A soft mischief, a boyish KNOWING playfulness.

“Jazz, bongos, Jazz, bongos...” Tony muttered the words in a low chant… KNOWING he was forgetting something significant until he rewound their first encounter.

“My secret to ‘keeping a lid on it’.” Bruce remarked with an amiable smile as he saw the recognition fall upon Tony’s face.

What confused him, was the alarm that swiftly followed.

Much to his surprise… a supposedly injured and thoroughly fucked sore man was verily RUNNING in a hobbling lope to the kitchen where the cookie container sat woefully depleted of nearly half of its large burden.

“Oh… oh shit...oh man… that’s not good...” Tony began to make a bizarre dance of movements. First he slapped one hand to his forehead, then both hands planted upon his cheeks, then they covered the pricelessly shocked and alarmed inventor’s mouth where a garbled choked sound escaped as he stared over Bruce’s shoulder to the living area.

A giggle tittered from the couch. Low. Husky.

Lunging suddenly, Tony darted past Bruce to tug the blanket draped over the back of the modern couch and fling over the form lying there. Pale bare feet peeked out the other end and those long toes curled as the act brought a titter to the person on the couch.

“Is that… Loren?” Bruce hazarded as he peered to the genius who struggled to wrestle that blanket to continue covering the figure on the couch.

“Yeah… she’s got… a sweet tooth and… gah!” Suddenly, Tony found himself yanked down halfway under the covering where murmuring lumps, one giddily amused, the other frantic, squirmed about.

Concern furrowed the scientist’s brows as he watched Tony in what would have been an entirely comical scene had it not been for the fact that there were WAY too many cookies to be safely consumed missing from the container.

“Tony…” Like a scruffy meerkat, the inventor’s head popped up from out of the covers, brown hair mussed and brown eyes wide.

“Yeah my favorite Bro-sticle?”

“I really should take a look at her to make sure she’s not going to be ill from an overdose.” Without concern to what consequences may present itself, he grasped the blanket, however, Tony’s hands dropped to clench down over the blanket as he shook his head.

“No no no… let’s just let her sleep it off...”

“Tony, this is serious. I’d rather not have you take her to visit the hospital.”

“Maybe she’ll just be…”

“DON’T make me MAD.” Okay. Bruce wasn’t ACTUALLY that irritated. But he’d learned a while back how to dance his finger over the button in front of people and they would react. Most times by backing down. He’d sure made Natasha jump like hell.

  
Instinctive reflex kicked in and Tony released the blanket with a jerking back of his hands as if it had suddenly grown scalding hot. Not wasting the opportunity, Bruce yanked back the cover… and simply stared with wide brown eyes to the form sprawled on the couch.

Loki. The God of Chaos. Wearing a women’s white poet sleeved top and a long gypsy skirt.

He dropped the blanket, lifted it again, and the mad MAN on the couch chuckled with a languid blissfulness, seeming to bask in contentment as a long arm slunk to wrap around Tony’s waist.

Slowly, the scientist raised his eyes up to the engineer who looked every bit like the child caught with their hand in the cookie jar and it was evident that genius mind was working swiftly to come up with a REALLY logical explanation.

“Congratulations! You found a way to subdue the God of Madness with your Pot Cookies!” With a showman’s flair and flourish, Tony spread his arms wide, hoping his contagious Stark Charm and good mirth infected Bruce.

“I am completely… and utterly… vanquished...” murmured the God of Chaos before he added with a jovial placitude. “Your treats are very, very tasty.”

Slowly, Bruce Banner rose to stand as he removed his glasses deliberately to rub his eyes as he padded to the kitchen before the scientist tugged open the container of cookies.

An eerie silence disturbed only by the obviously high god who rambled affectionately to Tony followed, and the inventor remained carefully silent, letting Bruce absorb the situation with the least shock to his system.

He REALLY hoped Bruce wasn’t angry.

Finally, he returned, carrying a cup of tea to sit with deceptive calm as he settled into the chair across from the coffee table.

“Well...” Bruce began with a tentative positioning of tact in that absurdly mad situation. “...it entirely explains the room.”

“Look… Bruce, it’s not as bad as you think. Well, ok… it’s pretty messed up. But it’s… I dunno, I’m his parole officer...” As Bruce granted him a dry flat look, he amended with a slight shrug. “With benefits. The point is… he’s here to do something different than before. Initially, yeah, he wanted some place to stay… kinda homeless at the time, and he’d do some public service to keep his rent.”

As the scientist nodded for Tony to go on, the other man drew a deep breath as he settled to sit upon the couch. Immediately Loki wormed himself up to rest his head in Tony’s lap with an affectionate nuzzle, looping his arm around the mortal’s waist.

“He’s been learning more about our world, taking more of an interest. And I’ve been learning a lot from him… oh man, I totally am going to have some kickin’ projects in production soon. But we… I dunno...”

“We have found a comfort and security.” Loki continued with a soft hum of contentment, smiling unabashedly in calm joy.

“Tony… he killed people...”

“Hey, in his defense, I found out Fury collapsed the building when he first arrived, so he’s not the cause of those 80 agents.”

“A lot of people in the city.” Bruce drew a deep breath before he sipped his tea, carefully studying the complacent creature sprawled on Tony’s lap. He didn’t miss how those work calloused fingers threaded through raven locks spilling over Tony’s thighs.

“My kill count’s higher than both his AND yours, Bruce. My iconic suit is red because of the blood I’m responsible for, and gold for the money that I collected from it. I’m not a great guy. I’m not a shiny hero like Captain America. But I’m a man who could change, and did. I’m just offering him the same chance. And, frankly, with the crazy crap going on out there, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Mind the C word.” The sorcerer tittered as he raised a long pale finger to the mortal’s lips before Tony’s eyes rolled in affectionate exasperation.

“Fine, fine…. NUTTY crap.”

“Much better.”

Finally Bruce exhaled a soft sigh, sitting back as he finally managed to bleed away that dangerous tension.

“Tony… I really, really hope you know what you’re doing and considering this carefully.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be Tony Stark.” He remarked before jerking his thumb to the bedraggled bedroom with a dastardly crooked smirk, and that earned a faint smile from Bruce once more.

“But, I’m sure about this, Brucie Bear.” The boisterous Avenger added as he peered down to the peacefully drifting deity who bordered on a nap upon his lap. “I know I can save him. And he can save me.”

For a long moment, Bruce mulled over Tony’s words and considered them carefully. Considered the actions. Oh, he didn’t believe Loki had Tony under mind control magic… he’d seen the recording and heard the story of the ‘Drink fiasco’, and he knew the genius was too stubborn and jaded to fall for sweet words and whispered promises.

Tony’s greatest gift was his ability to see things DIFFERENTLY than others: spying an unexpected angle, coming up with brilliant improvisation, creating his brilliant works of wonder and invention, crafting a genius plan that no one else could conceive, because he was the only one who perceived it. It’s this viewpoint that allowed Tony to embrace both Bruce AND the Hulk together as friends, and it’s that very view that allowed him to see Banner beyond the beast and his research. He saw him as a human being. And this sight gave Bruce hope, no background check required.

“I won’t say anything… except ‘I told you so’ if it explodes in your face.”

“Fair enough.” Tony grunted the words as he shared a warm grin with his friend.

“I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, under ONE condition.”

“You’re a gem, Bruce! Name it!” The engineer crowed before he winced as he felt a full body series of aches after his slight jump of amusement.

“I was thinking that his shape shifting trick might have a common link with my condition. I would like to study him to determine it.”

Tony looked flat for a long moment before he grinned grandly as he rubbed his hands with eager delight. They were going to study ‘magic’.

“Oh, Brucie… I’ve always wanted to play evil mad scientist with you! Bwahahahaa!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From The Author:  
> New Notes:  
> I want to say how amazingly wonderful 1111 is! My new Beta is a fantastic and patient person who has helped me clean this chapter. It was a grueling process due to some fancy cloud sharing I'm working with. 
> 
> If you get a beta reader, don't put them as Suggestions instead of Edit access, my google documents folks, because it'll bog your document like crazy. Learn from my snafu. 1111 was a trooper and stayed patient with me while I cleaned and fixed things.
> 
> #12 is in edit mode, and I'm writing #13. Thanks for all of your continued support!
> 
>  
> 
> Old Notes:
> 
> Thank you for your patience and sticking around with me thus far... there's a LOT more mayhem come up.
> 
> I love all of you! All of your comments, your support, it makes me excited to write more, and I'm certainly happy that my brainchild has plenty of people to play with. Hail Hydra to you all. Yes, I am not above planting a meme to see if you fabulous folk read my thank notes, too.
> 
> Any Betas, proofers or anyone with an abacus would be beloved and worshipped as a god(des).
> 
> Now, for the GOODIES!!!:
> 
> 1\. Fuck-a-thon. Loki held to his promise, and he took it out on Tony's poor ass. I apologize if it's traumatizing to anyone other than the engineer.
> 
> 2\. Halloween Avengers. I don't know why, but I see them gathering and doing domestic things.
> 
> 3\. That poor Stark Phone. Mind you, Tony will clean it, copy and reset the phone and get a new number, and give THAT one to Loren. He'll leave the photos and video, of course.
> 
> 4\. Pepper... is going to be in for a surprise when she comes into the next chapter.
> 
> 5\. Relationships: Could be bad for Tony's health, but he doesn't care!
> 
> 6\. I had fun writing Loki's kids. They embody and compliment his neurosis, and bring a more domestic side to the Mad God. Of course, kids would drive ANYONE mad.
> 
>  
> 
> The Standard Song and Dance:
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, Thor, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki, or any of the characters... they being the wonderful property of Marvel, Disney... and the brilliant writers/producers/ actors that bring such inspiring life to these characters.
> 
> Ditto for Disney Characters.
> 
> And much love for Gary Shandling for being a great sport.
> 
> This is a work purely of fiction and fun, and I riddle it with nods of appreciation to the original creators. It is merely a playful exercise of 'what if'. I will be adding more tags as the story progresses, leaving SOME surprises! Also, I'm, by no means a medical professional... the best I can give professional advice for are papercuts, because I get them professionally.


	12. Twelve  For Wealth (Brand Spanking New episode!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce learns to adapt to Loki being part of Tony's life, and he finds this new member of their menagerie fascinating from a scientific standpoint, not that Loki's ability to handle a kitchen didn't hurt, either. After countless interviews with the survivors of those lost to his invasion, Loki finds one who is grateful. Fury returns, and he has news.
> 
> I'd like to thank 1111 for being such a wonderful and patient beta and saving me from typo demons and punctuation gremlins, and I'd like to thank all of you for your continued interest and support!

“You look weird.” Bruce Banner stated to the man beside him.

Tony grunted as he sipped his coffee.

“Yeah, you’re funny looking too, King Khaki.”

“I mean without your beard, you look a lot younger.”

“I’m your sugar daddy through science, you don’t need to butter my toast.”

A dry chuckle escaped the scientist who sipped his tea and basked in their new early morning ritual. Watching Loren work. Well, it might have been the epitome of laziness to watch another person work, but there was a sizable crowd out there, so what would be sloth for a person or two turned into an event for a crowd. But still, he philosophized, there was something enthralling in tagging along with Tony and Loki… Loren… on the ‘daily duty’.

“I’m serious. You don’t look your age, especially since you don’t act it.”

“I take it back, I think I liked the butter. Praise my hair.”

A few years, or even weeks back, if someone said he’d be sitting side by side with Tony Stark to watch the person he pounded into the floor (for attacking a city) doing a domestic service… as a woman no less… he’d have laughed them off. But there they were, doing just that, and there he was, a partner in a secret so dark and dirty it could damn them all.

He was happy. Sure, the Big Guy stirred a bit, and when Loki came out of his pot haze, there’d been a ‘scared cat in the dogpen’ moment with the lanky god comically folded into the corner of the couch with the pillow hugged to his chest and hidden behind Tony, that the scientist realized that there probably wasn’t much for Bruce to worry about, fight-wise. IF Loki started something, he’d finish it.

But this Loki was different, and the sight of him didn’t make the Big Guy bristle like that initial time on the helicarrier. The ‘villain’ was calmer, more pleasant, and almost domestic. And as attached to Tony as a cat to its favorite chair. What made him ease and decide to give Tony his aid and his pet villain a chance was lunch. Bruce had travelled many places in the world, and food, he felt, was a powerful tool. He learned in his travels that cooking could share a person’s soul, it could give markers and hints about a person’s psyche, and a good dinner warmed the heart and excited the spirit.

Loren’s meal did both. It spoke of patience, and attentiveness, but there was a care in the spice blend and the choices to make not just a nutritious repast, but even a tasty sweet for the end. The fondness the sorcerer had in his eyes as he watched Tony tuck into the meal was unmistakable. And then, there was how he doted on the genius. Loki took care of him, at times, like the grown man was a child or a pet.

The Other Guy approved of the food and remained complacent and content with the cooking. Of course, he took his time in the kitchen as well, and Loki (or Loren depending on who was around them) would observe and ask questions.

Wariness melted into caution, then shifted to a neutral tolerance, and eventually Loki accepted Bruce as a part of Tony’s life, and even found interest in discussing with him when Tony was locked up in the Lab tinkering. Loki reminded him of an insatiable student when he would talk about the places he’d traveled, and discussed medicine at length with him. The ex-world dominator even seemed to be shocked when Bruce asked him about his own travels, and the cautious delight on Loki’s face preluded some incredible tales about worlds and cultures. Not battles, not glory, but actual useful intel on worlds beyond their own. Bruce’s scientific mind nearly lost it’s grip when Loki would conjure illusions to show examples of what he had seen and experienced.

There were some mornings Tony walked stiffer than others, and occasionally there were the oddest moment the genius’ eyes would glaze over briefly and he’d shuddered as if something triggering a sense memory, but it was obvious Loki was tender in his care for the engineer.

He’d seen Thor’s strength and saw the footage of the brothers battling as equals. He’d seen the hole the Hulk smashed into the dense stone floor with Loki’s body, and he knew that the worst it did was leave him stunned, sore, and only a little scratched. With strength and endurance like that, the alien could break his best friend easily by accident. And yet, no matter how warped their nights were, and he KNEW they were beyond sane safe sex, he never saw Tony much worse than sore or hickied like a highschooler.

“Hey, Bruce, you’re not thinking of making a move on my girl, are you?”

With a blink, the scientist snapped back to the present before he shook his head and sipped his chai tea held warmly in his hands. “No, no. Just… thinking.”

“If it’s about that phone...”

“Ha ha… but no. I mean, about Loren. She’s taking all of this...” He gestured with a wave to encompass the monument. “...really seriously.”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Tony murmured sagely.

“Do you want to talk to the Big Guy about that joke?”

“No no no! I’ve got a better one for him!”

Banner was going to regret it, but he had to ask.

“A better one?”

“Yeah, why did General Ross cross the road?”

Yeah, he was sure he was going to regret it, and he felt the tight stirring inside himself at the mention of that name.

“Why...”

“HULK THROW!!!”

As Banner choked on his tea and violently coughed, Tony pat his friendly heartily on the back with a boyish grin.

“See? I’ve got a few for Greenbean for when he comes out to play.”

“Tony Stark, are you picking on the nice Doctor again?”

Both men raised their eyes to look up to the woman who strode over to them, gold gilt staining her hands as she carried her kit.

“Promise! I’m on my best behavior.”

He’d never thought it was possible, but the pair snorted in unison.

With a sigh, Loren cocked her hip before she placed her tool box into Tony’s hands and turned to stalk back into the tower like a queen.

“Come, peasant. Buy me lunch and then take me to the next visit.”

Suddenly a loud whip snapping sound from beside Tony made him jump, and he turned to eyeball his grinning friend that held a new Stark phone before Bruce poked at the sound effects app on it.

“Gee, Tony, I think I like my new phone now.”

 

~~~

 

Most times, the meetings and interviews with those left behind by the lost involved a great deal of heartbreak and sorrow for the survivors. And Tony and Bruce could see that it was beginning to take its toll on Loki when he’d sometimes slink away with a bottle of spirits and just Jarvis for company when they returned.

But there were rare times when the meetings were sad for an entirely different reason.

Such was the case of Maria Lemark.

She was a mousy quiet lady, no children. Not that she didn’t want them, but that she was too frightened to have them, or rather, to put them in dangers way. Her home looked to be made for a man, and nothing so much as a doily was in sight or a flower in a cup. It was masculine right down to the La-Z-Boy recliner parked prominently in front of the TV with a side table decked with a cup holder, remote, and permanent beer can ring on the veneer. Everything was set for the man of the house to return.

Now, it could have been argued that there was a loving denial in his loss, but there was one thing that caught Tony’s eye. No photos. Well, not of the wife. Mostly ones of the deceased with various game, and a dog or two.

“Thank you for having us over, Mrs. Lemark.” Loren shared a soft comforting smile to the woman across from her. As she sat meekly, weary, she nodded.

“I want for you to tell me simply whatever you choose. Fond memories, thoughts, opinions, or even venting, whatever you may. If it helps, you could speak about how you felt at the time, or feel now. I am here to listen.”

“Will you… tell anyone?” The cautious lady inquired as she shifted wary looks to Tony and Bruce.

“No, none of us will, not without consulting with you and receiving your consent.”

And so the somewhat young but strained woman gathered the material of her nursing scrubs in her hands and began to fidget as she spoke softly with her head cast down. “I’m grateful to that Loki. My husband was… a man with a nasty temper, and he liked things a particular way. He got violent, and I...” She faltered briefly as Loren leaned across to tap her fingers.

“He is no longer here, so you can tell me anything you were never able to tell before. We will not judge you.” And so, between tears and quavered words at first, Maria began to speak of a controlling abusive man who’d entrapped her in a miserable life.

Five minutes later, Tony’s knee began to jiggle in agitation.

Ten minutes later, Bruce had to excuse himself for a ‘call’ when his phone began to beep in alarm with his rising blood pressure.

Thirty minutes and any remorse Loki may have felt about slaying the man in his invasion had melted away.

But by Forty minutes, something miraculous happened. She seemed to gather strength as she spoke, switching from a present tense to a past tense as she began to look around the room. No, he couldn’t rise from the grave to haunt her. She even allowed herself to grow angry, venting about him in words that were far kinder than either Tony or Loki would have used.

“He grabbed his gun, and that idiot went outside. He wanted to make a trophy out of one of those… things.” She paused, then look from Tony to Loren who sat, looking rapt with her story of that fateful day. “I tried to go out and help some of the wounded, but he wanted me to see him make the kill. So he dragged me into the mess. And then… there was one of those things and… HIM.”

“Him?” Tony coaxed as he sat forward.

“Loki. He was pointing the others away from the hospital down the road past us, thank God. There would have been so many hurt or killed. Bill was next to me, but I didn’t see him, I didn’t hear him. All I could see was that man in gold that shined in the sun like some kind of prince from Game of Thrones or something.”

“Good descriptio-ow!” Tony grunted as Loren elbowed him and began to peer to Maria with a slight crinkle to her nose as if trying to picture something or remember. “What did he do? Did he see you?”

“Yes.” The nurse hesitated, then bore an odd look of confusion. “He told me to leave, and I would be safe. He pointed towards the hospital.” A cautious gaze raised to Loren and Tony as if she expected a negative response. Except, the Avenger was grinning wryly. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“You believe me?”

“Yes.” Loren stated with a soft smile. “Yes, I do. And I trust you were unharmed. Your husband?”

“When I looked, he was already dead. I didn’t see it happen. I’m… glad that I missed that. It would have given me nightmares.”

The engineer shifted his gaze around the room. “Well, looks like you can make a fresh start. Need any help with redecorating or remodeling?”

Fear lit brightly in Maria’s eyes and she glanced fearfully to the door.

“No...no. I can’t do that. His brother, Warren… if he finds another man here...” The rattle of a truck’s engine outside the home could he heard and rough footsteps clomped towards the back of the house.

Tony could see her confidence crumble and it hit him in the vicinity of the arc reactor. Loren pursed her lips slightly as she rose to stand and took the protesting engineer’s hand within hers as she ushered him to the door. “I understand. Well, I’ll not see you have trouble on our account.”

“Mr. Stark… just one more thing.” She chanced swiftly. “If you see… HIM. Could you tell him… ‘thank you’… for me?”

“I will make sure the message goes through.” Loren grunted as she shoved Tony’s head back out of sight on the other side of the door, just in time for a large grizzled man to enter from the back door with suspiciously narrowed eye.

“Who’re you? Wait… aren’t you that girl from...”

“I’m a friend of Maria’s. Dear, if you need anything, just give a call to the Tower, or you can visit.” With a slender finger, she pointed “You would be safe there.” With the confused almost haunted look on the woman’s face, the mysterious lady gave a mischievous smile to Maria before she made a flourish of a graceful hand that looked like a wave, but masked a covert scrying alarm spell on the beleaguered person. The first time his name was spoken, Loki would know.

It was, literally, an uphill struggle to drag Tony with her back to his car. “Loren.. Wait… Loren! What are you doing? Damnit, that guy is going to…”

“Not do anything right away. And if he does, I will know.”

“How… how will you know?!”

With a pause before the car, Loren wriggled her fingers in his face. “Space Voodoo.”

When they slipped into the car, Tony put it into gear, and took to the road. Something nagged at the back of his mind. The mad god was grinning too widely, too pleased, that there HAD to have been something wrong.

“How are you so sure that he won’t hurt her?”

“Oh, he would be a bloody fool to do that with a witness.”

“Witness? Where would she get one of those?”

“We brought it.”

“What, more ‘space voodoo’?”

“No, Dr. Banner is there.”  
  
Oh, RIGHT. THAT.

“You left him behind.”

The tires squealed and horns blared as cars careened around Tony as he snapped a sharp look to the smirking woman who was holding the good Doctor’s cell phone proudly. “You Machiavellian pocket picking asshole!”

‘Sir, there is a collect call for you.’

 

~~~

 

As the Uber driver pulled away with the misplaced scientist, Maria felt despair crowd in as her red faced brother in law rounded on her. Alone. She was alone. “You filthy whore! So you’ve been whoring out to ANY guy who walks in off the street...”

“No, it’s not like that! They were here to talk to me about...” She hesitated as this riled him further, and the frightened woman curled in on herself as she backed towards the corner by the stairway.

“About WHAT? Say it. SAY IT!”

“Loki!”

“Always about that! No one is going to believe this bullshit of yours, so just shut your-” The rest of the venomous words exploded in a rush of air as the AC technician took a step forward and tumbled thunderously to the ground.

“I know it is terribly juvenile, but some tricks are still so amusing after all of these centuries.” That droll voice drew the attention of both Maria and the downed man with a pair of shocked and confused gazes towards that chair that denoted the master of the house. Who sat enthroned casually upon it was none other than the Trickster God himself, in full glorious golden battle attire, but seemed nonchalant as he casually peered to his meticulously manicured nails.

Struggling to his feet was difficult with Warren’s laces tied together, and he eventually growled as he tugged off his boots.

“Oh, so now you’re finding the freaks that dress up like...” His words choked into his throat as he felt the cold line of steel against his skin as the infamous villain appeared and loomed over him like death itself.

“Oh no, my puny little mortal, I AM truly the God Loki. Do you require for me to prove my vengeance, my power further?” With but the slightest pressure of metal to draw a bead down the man’s throat, Loki watched the man begin to shake with fear rank as a stench. “For truly, I can be a vengeful god...” With the faint ammonia scent that escaped the man, Loki secretly delighted in instilling that level of humiliated fear to make the man wet himself.

“Just as much as I can be a merciful and beneficial god.” With slow steps back, Loki then turned to eye that worn, ugly-as-sin chair before, with a wave of his hand and a flash of green magic, it transformed into an elegant throne engraved with norse runes and images of animals and a girl playing. “Oh, Lady Maria, I do ask of you make yourself comfortable! No need to fear me. You have wronged me not one bit. Sit. You look weary.”

Slowly, as if numbed and stunned, Maria cautiously escaped from her corner. Each step granted her strength and confidence until she sat in the couch beside her as she stared, enchanted, to the chaotic being that freed her of her husband and now his brother. It was real. He was real.

“You. Wretch.” Loki snapped his fingers dismissively to Warren before he made a general wave to the upstairs. “Go cleanse your foulness and do not return until the hour has passed. Should you displease me, I will reupholster this chair with your hide.”

It was almost comical to see the once brutish beast of a man gibber and scrabble up the stairs. Loki grinned grandly before he leaned in to confide with the nurse who tensed beside him. “Between you and I, I would never do such a thing, but let us keep it a secret from him shall we?”

“Thank you.” She hazarded softly, and as the armored enthroned man smiled  warmly, she managed to ease a bit.

“Not at all. You are worth the effort for me to visit. You called, I came.”

“Why?”

“Why...”

“Why did you save me, that day? And the Hospital.”

A deep breath was drawn before he removed his helm to rest on the floor at his feet, raking his fingers through the long wavy mess of hair. “Because, no matter what condition I may have been in, or what actions I may have taken, I believe in the old rules of war. Healers are to be respected, protected, and places of healing likewise. A strange code, perhaps to many, but one I believe strongly in.”

She jumped to her feet immediately rushed to the fridge. “Ah! You are a guest, may I bring you something to drink...”

“Whatever you wish to have, Lady Maria.”

She nodded, but muttered that name…’Lady Maria’ and a soft smile graced her lips as she placed the beer back inside the icebox. Yes, she liked that. Lady Maria. Soon, she returned with two cups of hot cinnamon chocolate and offered it to her rescuer.

“You look… better. Healthier.” This observation caught Loki by surprise, and he simply bobbed his head.

“I am in a far better situation than before. Healers are perceptive. Well done. I propose a toast, then.” Holding up the mug of the hot chocolate, the deity bore a solemn and meaningful tone. “To us. May we never be controlled again, but be free to make our own way.”

Maria watched as he sipped his chocolate. No, he wasn’t patronizing her situation… that apparently he’d utterly changed. Twice. But, who would control him? Who COULD?! It was a scary thought, one she would have rather not ponder about.

“You are her, aren’t you. Loren.” It was a dangerous gamble, and Loki seemed to think. Or, rather, he listened to the sound of the shower upstairs before he replied.

“Guilty as charged, but I would appreciate if we could keep this our little secret. In return, you may call upon me whenever you are in need.”

“Why would you do this? I’m just a nurse. A nobody.” A soft tut escaped Loki as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the throne as he sipped the hot beverage.

“There may come a time when I require a healer. I know how governing forces function. What they cannot control, they seek to destroy.”

“I’m not sure how much help I could be for someone like you, but I will do what I can. Is there anything else I can do? I feel like this is an uneven deal.”

Loki leaned back as he sipped the hot cocoa in thought before he replied. “Are there people or places to help others who have been in situations like you were with your husband and that obnoxious fool upstairs?”

“There are shelters… but I was too afraid to to go one, before. Now, after the fact, I don’t know why I hadn’t.”

“Excellent! Then assist in one of these shelters. Now, to more pressing matters. When you decided to alter this abysmal decor call for Loren. I shall find you the manpower to assist.”

An odd giggle escaped the nurse, she tried to conceal it, but when the armored being raised a cool brow in curiosity, she sipped her chocolate before explaining her abrupt mirth. “Just a silly thought. It’s like you started off as Maleficent here, but you’re really Mary Poppins underneath.”  
  
Loki laughed, a rich genuine sound filled with honest amusement. “Lady Maria, I do not think I have ever been given a higher compliment.”

 

~~~

 

“Avengers, Assemble!” Captain America announced with full conviction.

“I get dibs on the entertainment console!” Tony cried as he hugged a large box like a boy laying claim to a present.

A snort escaped Clint as he half hung from the stair banister to apply painter’s tape to the edge of the wall as Natasha shook her head, hair pulled back from her face as she gave smooth precise rollings of paint to the other wall as Bruce helped to remove the outlets and electrical fixtures.

Steve sighed as he hefted bed pieces effortlessly to carry them up the recently wood laminated stairs to the rooms that had already been finished. Thor lifted the large box Tony was determinedly dragging like a Jack Russell would a bone, the same size as himself, to help deposit it in the adjoining finished room for the engineer to inspect the wooden puzzle elements and (maybe) the instructions.

“Is anybody thirsty? I made some lemonade…” Maria carried a plastic container with filled cups through her home, and her generosity was met with welcome and gratitude from the home renovation crew.

Initially, she had been shocked, floored, and flustered when the Avengers themselves offered to help her with the task of turning the home into her own. With her brother in law moving to the west coast in fear-induced haste, it would have been a difficult mess for her to handle on her own with her work schedule.

Instead, she had the shocking experience of having gods and heroes among men in her own home. It had only taken a few hours for her to realize the odd menagerie were more like a firehouse family than lofty beings the media painted them to be.

Soon, she welcomed them every day they came to work with food and treats when she could, and she began to find something strangely sincere in the bond of they held. Especially, and this shocked her, with how Loren was a part of this ‘family’. Loki had briefed her to remain quiet about his identity in a desire to keep peace, and any reservations she had were washed away as she saw how this being that been a divine force that one night, later had old ragged pants, hair pulled back in a cap, and paint on her skin, even her nose as she worked just as hard as the rest in the tasks.

“Your kindness is warming, Lady Maria. I thank you!” The large blonde beamed grandly as he accepted one of the drinks. The title made her blush even as she felt a once rare warmth of pride in her heart. Respect.

“If wasn’t for Loren and all of you, I wouldn’t be this happy. It’s the least that I can do.”

This made Thor pause and turn to look to the tall raven haired woman who was carefully painting the edges of the ceiling with a soft smile that adorned her ruby lips as she labored to beautify the domicile of a Midgardian that ranked just a little higher than a peasant, a service laborer.

He felt something, something very rare. Something that was utterly alien to the Prince of Asgard.

He felt humbled.

 

~~~

 

Tony was utterly baffled. When Loren excused herself for the night when they returned, he stood on a glowing round platform in his lab with full holographic readouts and displays surrounding him when Thor strongly requested for the moment to speak to him.

Instead, he put Thor there in the center of the platform, and had Jarvis test his scanning array.

“Come again?” Lights flickered and danced to light up the confusion on the inventor’s face.

“Do you wish for me to depart and return once more?” Thor inquired with perplexity as he stood with his hands held out at his side as was requested.

“I mean, could you repeat that, Goldilocks?”

“I give you my blessing to court Loren, Man of Iron.”

The illusionary image of a humanoid diagram in front of Tony slid aside as he made a swiping gesture to rub his hands over his face. They weren’t having that conversation. They absolutely, undeniably, were NOT having that discussion.

“In you she has found what she never could before. She has become attuned to the people of this world and has sought to learn of the plights of even the peasants.”

“Yeah, Thor… it’s kind of rude to call people peasants here…”

“I saw her pleased to labor for nothing at all to gain. And she has been attached to you in a way I could never imagine, and I see that you reciprocate it. You also provide security, shelter, and all she may require. Thus, I believe it best in the interest of all for you to court her. She has found a wealth that no coin in the Nine Realms could buy.”

Tony sat down in his chair as Thor stepped down from the dais. Court. Well, he’d danced around the topic and razzle dazzled even himself with excuses, but he and his ‘Angel of New York’ have both been openly and privately attached  like a pair of magnets. After Pepper, he’d sworn not to get so close again, and yet… there he was. If anything, he was more attached.

But. Wait.

“So, wait, does this mean you’re not going to keep cockblocking us or barging in?”

A brief pinched look graced the Thunderer’s face before he shook his head. “Nay, Friend Tony. I shall no longer interfere.”

Like a shot Tony zipped from the couch to race to the lift with an ecstatic ease as he raced to the lift. “Thanks for the talk! See you tomorrow Pikachu!”

Oh, such fun they could have had! No bothering, no pestering. No Thor causing a thunderstorm to challenge the power grid. Ready to offer a delightfully scandalous idea that involved whipped cream and a pair of handcuffs, he stopped short as he saw their quarters empty. A soft frown graced his lips.

“Sir, I was requested to not tell you that Loki had left, but as you can see for yourself...”

A sigh escaped Tony as he sank to sat. Well, that’s a boner bore.

“What did he do, go off looking for birdseed?” Tony grunted as he began scrolling on his phone. It wouldn’t be the first time she went out at night, sometimes in bird form, sometimes incognito. Any amusement died as he suddenly heard a voice singing with music playing. Not rock, not metal. HORNS. Immediately he scrabbled to end the call when he found the phone Loki left behind.

‘’What the hell is THAT?!”

“Chicago, Sir.” Jarvis replied helpfully. “‘Baby, What a Big Surprise’ to be precise.”

Like a rotten egg had been tossed into the room, the engineer wrinkled his nose. “Ugh! Out of everything Earth has to offer, especially in the best era of rock and metal, Prancer picked that sentimental crap?”

“It is not in my programming to question the musical choices of others.” The AI intoned with a dry wry irony thick enough to make Tony peer suspiciously to one of the wall optical sensors.

“Is that an opinion about my own music choices?”

“Perish the thought, Sir. It is not in my parameters to comment on either your choice of music, or the loudness you wish to implement it, Sir.”

“You ARE getting cheeky with me!”

But a cheeky AI was the least of Tony Stark’s problems.

He had a missing God on his hands.

After an hour of worrying, he realized that she was a grown god, and could very well take care of herself. Loki had been capable long before he was born, and he could manage a few hours on his own.

A day later, though, he had Jarvis sweep every media outlet and every satellite to find his black haired bombshell when Loren never made an appearance for her daily work on the stone momento.

It wasn’t until a week later that his frenzied paranoia paid off and Tony was in the park where Nick Fury crawled from the shadows to toss sprinkles of seed to birds.

“So, the Great Tony Stark finally found something money couldn’t buy, and now he can’t remember where he put it.”

“Yeah, thanks, St. Nick, but mind telling me why you now want to talk to ME when I couldn’t get you on the line when I needed you?”

“Because you need me now.” The Director of shield remarked as he leaned back in a soft creak of leather in the park bench. “And I’ve got more irons in the fire than just you. But...” He dropped a hefty folder beside Tony. “I found out what Thor’s little brother has been up to.”

Trying to not tear into the manila folder like a kid, Tony forced himself to open, and stopped dead still. Loki. All over in pics. Nothing grandstanding or large, but speaking with people. No one he really recognized except for maby a few bioengineers and scientists he vaguely recalled from past brain party socials and science soirees. But he saw a lot… a LOT of suits. That made him cautious.

Why suits? It was too obvious! People doing secret underworld stuff should have shopped in a Hot Topic or Wal Mart to never be so obvious. And yet, in addition to that cliche clothing motif, there were the dark clad, armed goonies he’d seen a dime a dozen. One hidden faced brawn that had the worst case of raccoon eyes even made him snicker.

“So? Why me? Why not Steve?”

“Looks like Loki’s turned to making deals with certain groups. Making trades.”

“Not my weapons, damnit, not my tech. Not again! ” As silence rang for a long moment, Tony leafed through the papers.

“No. But I think you might be interested in what he’s trading for...”

“Extremis.” The word escaped the engineer like a wheeze as he was drawn into reading page after page of the trainwreck of a report. But, why? What good would it do Loki? He already healed at a superhuman rate and had a life span that saw nations rise and fall. The side effects couldn’t be worth it for him.

“Oh, and I also thought you might take an interest in this.” Fury handed over a small envelope, and Tony was hesitant to open it, but he did. Within was a series of photos.

“Sorry to say, Stark, but it looks like your Fairy tail Princess isn’t so clean after all.”

Pictures. There were pictures of Loren and Dr. Doom. They were eating on a terrace. Another of them conversing on a street. Arguing before a large manor. Countless days of them. And in the last photo was a bottle of something hidden by a specimen label.

“What’s this last one?”

“Well, Stark, I’m glad you asked. That’s a DNA ‘sample’ Miss Kirk dropped in an altercation that happened a few days ago, a rather nasty row where she managed to flip a Volkswagen. I lost three agents that were covering that when Doom went berserk.”

Tony’s chest began to feel tight as he stared to the label. A.E.S. and the year he was born caught his eye.

“So, when I had Shield check who’s it was, well, here we are. I think you and I need to have a long talk, Stark. The way I see it, your situation just got a whole lot messier, and I’d like to know HOW much messier before I lend you a clean-up team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 is up! Are you excited? I am! 
> 
> 1- There's no Chicago band bashing here, in fact, it plays a vital clue in the next chapter. I figured it would be amusing how Tony, who was so into that period's hard core metal rock, would react to some groovy brass rock that did some sentimental ballads. I just figure Loki might have enjoyed it because of the diverse sounds of the harmonizing, the variant pacing, and the way Tony's face would scrunch adorably if he heard it playing.
> 
> 2- Big Daddy Fury. I know there's a lot of fics out there where Fury is a 2d king of assholes. I like to think he's an onion, here. More like a tough grit dad to the Avengers. I see him as the closest thing to a father figure to Tony that Howard never was.
> 
> 3- Loki wheeling and dealing for Extremis. What do you think his game is? Has he just been using Tony all along?
> 
> 4- Do you know how hard it was to come up with a corny joke Hulk would appreciate?
> 
> 5- Peekaboo Hydra sees you: Did you catch the agent?


	13. Beware: It's the Devil Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, Chapter 13, and it's my longest yet! Let's give a huge hand to my fantastic Beta, 1111, without whom, my grammar would be more of a mess, and my plot bits would be a tangle.
> 
> So, Tony has to face some harsh truths, Loki had been playing dirty behind his back, and Nick plays the Avengers Dad for the sake of a rescue. Natasha shows her true spy colours and Tony doesn't stand a chance against her. Loki's kids return for the madness that will rise, and the Avengers go to war. 
> 
> All my heart and love go out to the people who have supported me thus far. You keep me writing!
> 
>  
> 
> What is the end, but a new beginning?

Tony Stark felt like he was falling, falling into that Void once more as shock, as dark and consuming as what he saw beyond that rift, closed in on him. He hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d listed to the left until Nick Fury braced him with a steadying hand on his shoulder.

The spy didn’t need to say a word to snap the engineer back to his wits, that simple silent contact made all the difference. Kneading his hands on his knees like a compulsive cat, the normally unflappable showman was, for a rare instance in his life, at a loss for words.

Loren. Loki. In all of those pictures with the dastardly array of scum Iron Man had been busting his ass to fight. There’d been such progress. No. There had been great change. To him, to the team, to the city. How could someone who delighted in Mary Poppins be turning shady deals with Dr. Von Dick?!

Like someone who’d lost their rent check, he began shuffling frantically between the papers, searching, looking for a clue. There had to be SOMETHING. Somewhere. All he got was a slight squeeze of that heavy hand on his shoulder and the rustle of leather as the master of shadow intel straightened himself out.

“C’mon, Stark. Let’s go to the Tower. I think you and I need to have a little chat over coffee.”

It took only two steps before the genius whipped his head up. “Wait… what?!” With a lurch to his feet, Tony trailed after the taller man, who lengthened his stride in a slow gradual increase until Iron Man was trotting after him like a terrier. “Hello, MY place...”

“Exactly how I know it’s stocked with coffee that’s not like piss brewed in dirt.”

“Uh uh! No way! It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you tell me what to do especially when it’s where I live, and with what I have!”

Precisely an hour later in Loren’s room, the pair sat at the desk that still had the sorcerer’s book open and pen resting ready upon the open pages. Sitting back in the guest chair with a creak of leather, Fury smirked with a confident amusement on his swarthy face as he stretched his long legs before him, making the chair creak.

“Cold enough for ya, Stark?”

“Kiss my ass, you Butt Pirate.” Tony sulked blithely as he sank into Loki’s chair, still smelling that all too familiar scent.

To which the spy simply sipped with an unabashed amusement before he settled back to cast his dark eye about the room, absorbing every detail, every element that told a story the common person wouldn’t see.

“Do you know what surprises me, is that you aren’t a fraction as vengeful for this as you were for Stane.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched as he picked up the pen, sullenly holding it as if it would hold the secrets of its owner. Yes, THAT analysis stung.

“You knew.”

“I know a lot of things.”

“Okay, I stepped into that one. I mean, you knew about Loren.”

“Loki? Oh, that one wasn’t too hard to put together.”

It took every ounce of self control not to stab the smug director with the pen. Instead, Tony put it down and picked up his own mug, instead.

“How long? Kinda surprised you didn’t tell the others or send your agents.”

“Oh, about the time I saw you two cavorting in the most magical place on Earth. It’s also about the same time I decided to test and observe the Mad God. Loki is clever and skilled, but like the saying goes, ‘An Artist puts a piece of themself in every piece they make’. In other words, he was more obvious than he realized.”

“His eyes.” Tony pursed his lips as Fury nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, and then there’s more subtle things like hand gestures and habits.”

“But his eyes are green.”

Fury chuckled as he gestured with his cup. “Obviously you’ve been staring into them long enough..”

“So you knew he was controlled!” The inventor bristled, sitting forward as he tried to read something from the relaxed body language.

“Like Barton and my other Agents? I’m sure he had some better resistance than they did, but I suspected he wasn’t playing with all of his own deck of cards.”

“He had just enough of his marbles to botch that battle, Fury. Remember when I told you… about the Void?! All those ships, the size… they couldn’t squeeze that camel through the eye of a needle. Kinda convenient, don’t you think?”

“For him.”

“For us.”

“You know, if he was this merciful saint you’re describing, there wouldn’t have been so much death and destruction, Stark.”

“There wouldn’t have been the activation of the Avenger’s Initiative. Or the push to support SHIELD, or all that handy funding and resources you’d gained. Face it. Loki was probably the best thing to help YOUR plans, Mr. Machiavelli.”

Fury’s wolfish smile tempered with a touch of wry ruefulness. “You know I’d have liked to get the funding and support without a disaster...”

“But it wouldn’t have happened. No one listens no matter how much you warn them the sky is going to fall. A controlled disaster was exactly what you needed.” Tony moodily swallowed the hot bitter brew as he dropped his gaze to the table. “Just like him.”

The spy breathed a low snort. “Oh please. What I do is nothing like him. Why would he need Extremis, AIM, or your samples? Why would he be meeting with Victor Von Doom if he was such an altruistic fellow. Why would he leave you? You’re the epitome of a sugar daddy.”

“HE DIDN’T LEAVE ME!” Tony roared with a raw fury as he jolted to his feet, coffee sloshing as he slammed it down on the table with a force that made various crystals and bottles skitter. “He...he didn’t leave me.” Tony repeated, fighting the ravaging murmurs of doubt that whispered in Stane’s voice.

Quiet for a long moment, Fury simply watched the inventor without a hint of a smile, looking grim and hawkish as he observed the shaking barely held together man that embodied the chaos that made his job both harder and more interesting.

“How are you so certain?” The larger man asked in a soft low tone, not to challenge, but to coax the distraught Avenger to analyze his own thoughts and not shut into an illogical logic loop.

How. How. How DID Tony know? He just did. The same way that he knew the scent of leather, and hint of spiced oils. The way he knew that feeling of thick textured parchment paper. Placing his hands on the table to brace around the book, he bowed his head.

“Because...” Tony began as he looked to the mess he’d made, practically hearing the sorcerer fuss at him for recklessly making a mess of his desk. HIS desk. HIS things. “Because… he’s still here.”

Whiskey brown eyes snap open as he took in the living space. The book was waiting to be written in. The ‘space voodoo’ crystals and jars, they were all here. Books and small objects that he knew that Loki cherished were STILL there. And as he turned his head, he could see other things, gifts from him like their picture of them from Disney World, a My Little Pony Tony modified with Loki’s colours and a miniature horned helmet, the Loki action figure standing at the ready beside an Iron Man. And there were Loki’s precious leather wrapped cases of tools, ancient tomes, carved figures of his children…

The Stark Phone.

The Engineer’s head whipped up to Fury who was smirking grandly. “It looks like he made himself VERY comfortable with you, Stark. He had revealed this much to be with you, and took the time to let himself into your life, and vice versa.”

“If he planned to have left for good, his things wouldn’t still be here.”

“No, they wouldn’t.”

“Then that means...” Agitation began to rise as Tony straightened. “That something KEPT him from returning.”

“Looks like it. I’m guessing he probably made a deal that backfired.”

And this opened a whole new can of worms. Tony sank to sit in the chair as he drew the book closer and began to flick through the pages. “I don’t know why he’d bother with Extremis. It’s freakishly unstable, I mean… yeah. I made a stabilizer for Pepper. But NO ONE has that information. Besides, we can barely get it to work right for us! Why would a guy who can get unicorn drool and dragon farts and who knows what other magic things in the universe want with some lousy haphazardly rigged serum to make humans super humans?”

“Maybe it’s to help him deal with whoever was pulling his strings.” Fury supplied as he downed the rest of his coffee, watching Tony work through his mental process.

“Nah, for one thing, it’s way too risky to test on a physiology as diverse as his, and I can testify that he could crush an Extremis enhanced person’s hand in an arm wrestling match without even breaking a sweat. His enhancement, IF it works, would be minimal.” When in Tony’s flopping fumblings the book showed only the last page, he paused as he stared to the flowery script, a handwriting as beautiful as poetry and looked like old English with certain words being capitalized. It looked… vaguely familiar.

“Not to mention that the extended life span and healing factor would be wasted on him. Meaning that...”

As his eyes dropped to the phone in his hand, Tony dialed it, and once more Chicago came to taunt him again.

“...that it wasn’t for him.” Tony finished as he dropped to sit as the music played the very same words written on the paper.

The spy simply nodded, then cocked his head to listen to the ringtone as he narrowed an obsidian eye in shrewd thought. “And your sample...”

“That idiot!” Tony groaned as he buried his face into his hands. “That glorious, altruistic, wonderful idiot.”

“An Idiot with exceptional penmanship.” Fury rose to stand as he stared to Tony who kept replaying the ring song and looking at the written lyrics on the page, hunting for something in the words, but he stopped after a set of words. ‘Help me find my way.’ The Director’s lips quirked slightly before he turned to stride to the door. “Well, looks like I’ll be busy assembling a strike team. If you find the where, I’ll have the goods.”

At the, Tony popped his head up with a wary look. “What, are you planning to catch him? Put him in another fish tank? Which, by the way, didn’t work well last time.”

For a moment, the Director paused in the doorway as the entry hissed open softly. “Are any of the Avengers’ hands free of bloodstains?” With the thick silence that swarmed that room, he turned his good eye to look to his charge. “If he’s willing work with the team, than I don’t see a problem with a trial period as an Avenger. He could be a useful asset.”

“I’d hug you, Nick. but I don’t want to get bruised by your weapon shop under that jacket. I also suspect you’re itching to get a wizard in with the rogues, warriors, paladins, and tinkers.”

A soft snort of amusement and a faint fatherly smile escaped the spy before he stepped out with a shake of his head.

~~~

_ Right Before my very eyes _ __   
_ i thought that You Were only fakin' it _ _   
_ __ and like before my heart was Taken it

_ baby, what a big surprise _ __   
_ right before my very eyes _ __   
__   
_ yesterday It Seemed to me _ __   
_ my life was nothin' more than wasted Time _ _   
_ __ but here today you've softly Changed My Mind

_ Baby, what a Big surprise _ _   
_ _ right before my Very eyes _

_ Just to be alone _ _   
_ _ was a little more than I could Take _

_ Then You came to stay _ _   
_ _ Hold me in the mornin' _

_ love me In The Afternoon _ __   
_ Help Me Find My Way _ __   
__   
_ Now and then just like before _ __   
_ i think about The love i've Throne away _ _   
_ __ but now it Doesn't Matter anyway

Two days of that same. Damn. Song. It wasn’t that the repetition was tiresome. He could picture Loki every time he heard it. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand Chicago. He was actually beginning to enjoy the band’s music. But he wasn’t coming close to cracking the REASON for it, looking for a hidden message.

It didn’t help that the line ‘Help Me Find My Way’ felt like an agonizing plea and that distracted him more than anything. He had JARVIS check on common known coding methods, but all the AI could tell him was that the Norse Deity and Sorcerer had a few grammatical errors.

Even working on the fabrication of another suit to try to get his stumped mind working, Tony had achieved nothing but driving any visitors away with the looping of that one song.

Well, all visitors except one.

“Nat, what brings you to my neck of the woods. Pepper?” He absently inquired as he tugged on digits of a glove carefully before turning a tiny screwdriver near the partially dismantled palm to adjust the attenuation.

“No.”

“Fury?”

“That was yesterday. No.”

“Bruce?”

“Your favorite Colonel.”

“Rhodes?”

“Sanders.”

Tools and the glove clattered to the floor as he swirled in the chair with a ‘gimme gimme’ grabby hands gesture in demand of the bucket of sin the redhead held.

“You’re my favorite assassin! You try to kill me with cholesterol.” With a soft wry smirk, the Black Widow tilted her head as she listened to the song.

“This again?”

“I’m trying to find Lo.”

“Oh?” She hopped upon the table next to the feasting genius who’d skipped FAR too many meals. “Which one? Loki or Loren? Or does it matter?”

The genius pointed a drumstick accusingly to his killer towermate. “Nope, not even going to be surprised because if Fury knew, of course you knew. But you brought me chicken, so you’re forgiven.”

“An olive branch battered and fried.”

“The best kind.”

Natasha turned her head slightly, then peered to the display of the written words that went with the song that haunted Tony for the past two days.

“You would think that an ancient bookish god would have better spelling.” She hummed, but narrowed her eyes slightly. “Even his ‘I’s are lowercase.”

“Not to mention some of the words he wrote are like a teenager’s Twitter. Taken instead of taking. The Throne thing, especially. Maybe it’s something lost in translation.”

As ruby lips pursed, the crafty woman reached down to pluck pen and a napkin devoid of grease. And she began to write what seemed to be random words. “I’m surprised you hadn’t found the pattern, Tony.”

“PATTERN?!” Briefly, the infamous Tony Stark had nearly been done in by the assassin’s chicken, but he managed to cough his airway free as he swooped in to peer like an eager puppy to what the calm tactical woman held in her hands. “What...where?! I’ve been trying every crypto code I could think of...”

“Every modern one?”

“Well, YEAH!”

And for a long moment, she stared to the genius, then held up her paper. ‘Right before you were taken’. “Did you try an OLD trick?”

Tony Stark was held speechless as he looked between the display and the paper, then back and forth. “That’s… all the capital letter words… ” And instantly he nabbed the paper from the assassin and began assembling the words. “Nat… I’m gonna owe you big time for this! Anything you want...”

And then he peered to the message.

_ Right Before _ __   
_ You Were _ __   
_ Taken _ __   
  


_ It Seemed  _ __   
_ Time _ _   
_ __ Changed My Mind

_ Baby Big  _ _   
_ _ Very _

_ Just Take _ __   
_ Then You _ _   
_ __ Hold In The Afternoon

_ Help Me Find My Way _

_ Now  _ __   
_ The Throne  _ _   
_ __ Doesn’t Matter

The pair read the message silently.

“I think Loki had more thought into your future than you did.” Then Natasha raised a scarlet eyebrow. “Baby big… Very?”

Tony’s eyes widened. ”What?” And as she settled him a level look, he began to redden.

“Should a congratulations be in order?”

“OH HELL NO!” Her other eyebrow raised. “It’s not mine!” Her entire head lifted and she crossed her arms over her chest with an ‘oh this gets better by the second’ expression. “I mean… she… HE… has kids, just not mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, yeah, we never...” And suddenly Tony got VERY silent as a realization struck him. “Huh… whaddya know. I guess she… HE… did keep me from any fun stuff IN her lady body...”

“Do we have a potentially pregnant Loki to add into the logistics?” She firmly nudged him back on topic.

“No. I don’t think so. I mean… I don’t think Loki’s alien biology is all that different… maybe a little big-”

At her stern steely ‘Pepper worthy’ look, he fell silent. And fidgeted with his bracelets.

“But Loki DOES have children?”

And immediately, blessed JARVIS provided pictures of the trio that visited during Halloween.

“That fuzzy asshole is Fenrir, the lady who looks like Loki is Hela, and the one who looks like a Slytherin is Jurg...Jungri…. I call him Jorge.” As the Eternal Serpent’s entire name flashed in text helpfully next to the picture, he smiled. “Thanks J!”

‘Always at your rescue, Sir.’

“That’s why I love you.”

Natasha Romanov rubbed her eyes as the situation web suddenly became a lot more tangled.

“Well, then, the ‘baby big, very’ would be the one who would be the biggest. Or assume the largest form.” As Tony mulled over that he considered the three. Hela, sweet sensible woman she was, RULED a huge place. Fenrir, well he simply became about people sized as far as he knew… but that left…

“The World Serpent! Jorge!” And then Tony tugged back his shirt sleeve and eyed the serpent shaped bracelet made of the thin silvery whisker, the gift from Loki in the early days of their acquaintance. He always wore both that and the one Harley gave him.

He stared at the silver serpentine bracelet for a long moment. Natasha held her breath as she sheared a sharp cautious look about the lab, alert to shifts in light or temperature.

“Wish I knew how this thing worked- OW!” The inventor grabbed his head that the assassin just smacked the back of in her annoyance.

“Tony, be serious!”

“I am! It’s not like I can say ‘bippity boppity badass’ and he’ll appear….” Tony hesitated as he looked around. “Well, it was worth a try.”

The deadly woman scoffed in a huff as she peered to the words. A warning. A confession. Tracking. Next, there had to be an activation hint. “‘Take and you hold in the afternoon’. It may be activated by sunlight, which is usually strongest in the early afternoon. We’ll need to go to the top of the tower.”

“The Tower! Rapunzel! Rapunzel!!!” When Tony began to hop to his feet with an obvious intent to bolt a hasty exit outside, she planted a hand on his shoulder to push him back into the seat.

“Finish your lunch. We can go to the pad at three. You have two hours, then you can go outside and play.”

“Yes, Mom.”

~~~

Tony didn’t know what he expected as he stood on the landing pad of the Avenger’s tower and held the bracelet above his head. A portal to open and a magnificent dragon to come swooping down. The bracelet to come alive and snake around his wrist. A pokeball to drop out of nowhere and the little snake coming slithering out. He was open to any options.

Any options, of course, except standing there like a moron until his shoulder began to ache.

And his phone was vibrating like crazy. What an awful time to have someone who simply wouldn’t hand up. He was in the middle of an epic summons, he really didn’t want to be interrupted. Well, maybe in ten more minutes when his shoulder charlie horsed…

As Natasha’s phone began to beep, she peered to it before answering. After a moment, she held the communication device to her compatriot. “It’s for you.” And, rather helpfully, she pressed the speaker button.

“Look, I’m kind of busy...” trying to summon a mythological dragon with a piece of jewelry… “can I call you back?’”

“I am simply returning your call, Stark.” That cool voice was certainly familiar to Tony, and he blinked as he looked from the bracelet to Natasha’s phone, and then back to the bracelet. Awkwardly, he dropped his hand to slip it back on.

“Jorge?” He hazarded, to make double certain.

“Yes. What ails you to call me?”

“How did you get my number?” Tony pressed, silently dreading enhancing his security protocols. And then he realized, as he looked to Natasha who was giving him the grim eyeball. “How did you get HERS?!”

“I simply contacted JARVIS and requested to be patched through to you.”

“Oh.” Tony paused, well, that was absurdly convenient. But, wait… “Simply contacted?”

“I have been keeping in touch with JARVIS for purely casual conversations.”

Tony wasn’t so certain if he felt worry about his AI having a private social life or parental pride. He decided to steamroll over it and make this a discussion for later. He really hoped he wasn’t going to need to have a discussion about the Twitters and Buzzfeeds with his brainchild.

“Look, I’m worried. Your Dad’s missing, and he left me a creepy cryptic message to call you. Do you have any way to find him?” Silence reigned on the line so long that Tony wondered if their connection had been cut until that soft voice bore a low subtle hiss of ire in it.

“I will be there by seven tonight. Prepare your allies.” After a pause, he added. “Prepare yourself.”

With the gravity of that tone, not even Tony could make a snarky pun off of that joke. There was something almost feral in the normally cultured tone of the scholarly serpent, and it sapped the witty human’s capacity for words. That couldn’t be good. Not one damn bit. As the phone clicked dead, he raised his eyes to Natasha with a searching for something… guidance. Assistance. Reassurance. Anything.

All he had was a face full of her knock out gas.

 

~~~

 

The Avengers, minus one and plus Nick Fury, sat at their conference table in their meeting room. The ‘minus one’ however, was sleeping on the couch in the same room.

“I don’t know, Nat, wasn’t it kinda harsh to knock Tony out? I mean, it’s Loren, after all...” Steve began as he looked to the man who snoozed comfortably on the couch.

“He hadn’t eaten in two days, and you can be certain he hardly slept in that amount of time. I think he needed a few hours of sleep more than a few hours of paranoia.”

“Good call.” Clint hummed as he checked the tension of his bow string and double checked the pulley system thoroughly.”Tony gets his Iron Panties into a wad when he gets worried.”

“Not to mention he tends to run off lone wolf when something hits him personally.” Bruce added before he nodded. “Remember the Mandarin incident? Even SHIELD thought he was dead until he blew AIM to kingdom come. Never called once for help.”

Thor, however, was sitting seriously, with a rare grimness to his cast as he stared to the door, waiting, however, Fury hardly seemed as dark in his cast. Instead, he was prowling through some documents.

“Well, looks like Dr. Doom finally went too far this time.” The Director mused as he peered to the brief packet of information sent through JARVIS from the one Tony called ‘Jorge.’ Latveria. No exact location, but obviously in Doom’s main castle grounds. He raised a sharp look to the assembled Avengers who looked to be chomping at the bit to invade Victor Von Doom for various levels of payback. It seemed, to Fury, that ‘Loren’, and Loki to some extent, had formed bonds with the band of unlikely individuals.

The Captain was torn between stealing worried glances to Stark out cold on the couch and studying the sheets of information, talking with Natasha about what reason Victor Von Doom would have to target Loren, someone he still considered a civilian. Clint, on the other end of the spectrum was hand sharpening arrow heads against a whet stone and dipping some into what would be obviously a toxic coating, bearing the silent look of a man who wished utter death upon another. Banner was mercifully busy gathering medical supplies and preparing to be the back-up and emergency aid in this mission. He didn’t want to be on the front lines, and for this mission, Fury entirely agreed. Especially when he began to turn a little green around the edges when the call to assemble had been made. The good doctor had grown too close. Agent Romanov, herself, had shown her attachment by her intervention to aid Tony and taking a proactive measure in the assignment’s planning. She WANTED Loki returned, and Fury, largely, felt the decision to offer for Loki to join the Avengers was largely due to her analysis of the Trickster God and his time amidst his ‘enemies’. He had become part of the family during his masquerade, and the only three, or two, that didn’t know would be Steve Rogers, Clint Barton… and he wasn’t so certain about Thor. Either the ‘god’ was blissfully unaware he’d been spending time with his brother, or he was playing along with the masquerade as if he was the poster child of blonde jokes.

It was a weight to balance revealing the identity of ‘Loren’ to the remainder and risk a fractured team and potential Asgard intervention, or try to keep the facade continuing until after the rescue. As Fury sat at the tense collection of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, he couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t seen this much intensity and hunger to Avenge since the events that brought them together initially. Full circle.

‘Director Fury. Our informant has arrived. He wishes to speak with you and Ms. Romanov before joining the conference.’ JARVIS supplied smoothly from the ceiling, and if he hadn’t known better, that artificial voice would have held a hint of… relief? Wait, considering it was Stark, he probably didn’t know better. He’s going to have to have a word with the engineer about his digital butler outgrowing his mainframe britches.  Natasha rose silently to stride to the door and he followed. As various others began to rise, the Director made a negating gesture with his hand before speaking to Steve who’d already made it to his feet.

“Wait here. We’ll be back in a minute. Might as well wake Stark.”

And as he stepped out of the room, the door closing behind him. The spy and the assassin followed the hall to the waiting area JARVIS showed directing lights to. He felt Natasha fall into step beside him in an unconscious habit. He didn’t know this contact, not a record, voice recording, or anything beyond Romanov’s witness to him on the phone, and JARVIS’ professed comfort and acquaintance of the individual. While he trusted his Agent in her assessments, he wondered what manner of person would be pen pals with an AI. SHIELD was becoming a less useful font of information for him because in this day alone, there were too damn many surprises.

When Nick Fury stepped into the waiting room, he felt like the wind had been punched out of his body as he stared to the figure right before him, and even Natasha stopped with a loud step beside him.

The figure was tall, whipcord thin but clad in a stylish black suit adorned with a green scarf. With hands clasped behind his back and staring out of the window, he looked to be the spitting image of Loki from the Helicarrier, poised and refined even in the grimmest of capture. However, as the individual turned, the seasoned spy’s mind snapped back into shrewd focus as he took in the long silver toned hair pulled neatly into a ponytail, the tinted scholarly glasses, and the expression of grim professionalism that would make Captain America proud. He looked like a stylish historian rather than a mad world dominator, but the resemblance was certainly there, subtly, in those sharp crafted features.

“Miss Romanov.” The soft spoken man nodded as the Widow eased from her alert stance as she remembered his voice.

“Jorge?”

“Dr. Jorge M. Gander, Archaeological Historian.” And as his glasses were slipped free, slit pupiled eyes locked upon the pair of SHIELD members as if he was studying them on a molecular level. It was unsettling, and unsettling was precisely what Nick knew what to do with.

“Director Nick Fury.” Leather creaked as he strode forward to offer his hand to the impossibly pale fellow before him. “Maybe we can do introductions later, but we’ve got a messy situation on our hands.”

“Where is Stark?”

“He’s taking a nap.” Natasha supplied with a low sigh. “Humans can’t live on coffee alone.”

The poised refined stranger remained silent for a moment before he accepted the spy’s battle calloused hand in the shake, his own hand cool and smooth with a ring of a serpent twined and bearing six coloured stones glittering in the light.

“You prevented him from running off and doing something unwise on his own.”

“You know him that well?” Fury inquired, wondering how he’d never seen this person in the surveillance of Tony Stark. Looks like the man who hides nothing DOES have secrets.

“I know my father.” Jorge bore a slight wry smile. “They are much alike.” That smile faded, however, as he gestured to a display wall. “Time is critical. I am grateful for the assistance your men will provide.” And then schematics began to appear, notes, and pictures of security setup. “I have an operative inside gathering better information than I could provide before.”

“An insider, this fast? I’m impressed.” Fury crossed his arm as he narrowed his eye to peer to the specs. The thought that a spy could infiltrate and act in less time it takes to go to a ball game is a scary concept. A juicy one at that. “You mentioned your father...”

“Loki.” Natasha supplied helpfully, and Jorge cocked his head slightly to look to her, eyes sharp with a cutting wariness. “Hence, why Dr. Jorge M. Gander has a staked interest in aiding in this rescue.”

Fury felt a nagging headache beginning to build behind the scarred remains of his hidden eye, and he rubbed his brow over it. Fantastic. The Mad God has kids.

“Off, the record, of course.” Natalie added with a stern determination, and Fury nodded. It would cut back on his own paperwork. The easiest secrets to protect are the ones not transcribed.

“Of course. Look. Let’s focus on the shitstorm in our hands. So, we’re figuring out the how, and the tactical logistics, what we’ve been struggling with is the why. Why would Dr. Doom take Loki? HOW, is what I’m wondering.”

“We kidnapped him, before.” Natasha supplied unhelpfully.

“He wanted us to kidnap him, Romanov.”

For a long second, the composed fellow tensed, muscles seeming to contract like a python as a chill sense of danger ebbed and flowed around him, eyes slitting to eerie lines. And then he closed his eyes and purposefully exhaled to regain his slipped composure. “Show them the throne room picture, please, JARVIS.”

For the second time, the grizzled spy felt his breath catch in his throat at the picture that appeared upon the display.

The air was thick with the silence that strangled all sound.

“I propose we don’t let Stark see this.” Natasha’s voice bore a deeper huskiness than usual.

“See what?” Said said mentioned owner of the voice, JARVIS, and so much brilliant tech until it choked off. As a sleep ruffled Tony Stark locked his eyes to the photo on the screen from the doorway, all colour raced from his tanned features.

All hell broke loose a moment later as it took all of the assembled Avengers, plus one World Serpent, to restrain him down.

 

~~~

 

Firelight danced and flickered in the ancient castle room, stone illuminated with the chaotic tones of the sultry dance of red, orange, yellow, and white that blazed from the twin hearths on either side of the sprawling chamber. It gleamed upon the cold impersonal metal that made up the Latverian throne, and blazed upon the long length of rune etched silver chain that lead to a jewel studded collar of an arcane decorated gold that matched the graceful cuffs and anklets.

The mad light glistened in raven curls and glowed on pale flesh revealed tantalizingly by drapes of supple green velvet that barely maintained modesty over the languid female form ensconced on large red pillows on the floor by the throne.

The light glowed with a dulled luster in half opened green eyes, even as a metal clad hand descended to caress over the rich raven mane. “Soon. Soon, Doom will rid you of that ridiculous fool that sought to weaken you.” Cold steel fingers descended to caress along the woman’s jaw, to cup her cheek where he could savour her beauty. “He will come, because the fool will know Victor Von Doom’s brilliance, and he shall fall into my trap.”

The runes upon the collar glow slightly brighter as the glazed emerald eyes sharpen, and ruby lips part to speak, but nothing escapes Loki. Though without voice, she still stabs the man enthroned beside her with a lethal burning hate.

“Yes… yes, let that fury burn beautifully in you...” He purred low, and turned his gaze to the glowing crystal pedestal that swirled with green and golden energy within, growing brighter as energy began to seep through the chain tethered from the collar to it. And the more magic Loki attempted to draw, the more was drained to feed the massive crystal. And the more that drained from Loki, the more it left her weakened.

Oh, but he did not wish to drain his beautiful goddess dry. No. He was a sorcerer, he knew precisely how magic, especially ancient magic, worked. It was alive, and was fed by emotion.

He watched with a morbid delight how Loki was a beautiful bounty… not merely of the flesh, and magic, but of raw untempered emotion. Emotion that fueled a magic so raw and potent, it was utter perfection for his genius. Together, they would be utterly unstoppable. If only Loki would simply drop that simpleton and acknowledge the glory of Doom.

“Shall Victor Von Doom show you again how it works?” With a beckon of his hand, the doorway opened, and what appeared to be Iron Man entered, walking stiffly with familiar loud music of AC/DC blaring. Loki’s pulse quickened as awareness seeped in over the numbing exhaustion, and the woman tensed, but cold metal hands drew her to sit perched upon his lap as the heavy steps of the metal man clomped into the room. At first, she began to struggle, tugged as alarm and rage fought for the fore as she shook that dark haired head desperately. Instead, he wrapped a hand around her waist to hold her firmly in place, as helpless in her bonds as any mortal.

“He has come, oh, yes… that Iron Fool… to rescue you… but he is nothing for the brilliance of Victor Von Doom.” With a gesture and a growled incantation, suddenly that crystal started to hum as glowing spheres within the room began to glow.

“But here, he shall be his own undoing.”

Loki jerked against that lap, struggled even as that chain began to glow green with the path of magic to feed the crystal that fed the spheres. Voiceless, she could only mouth the word ‘no’, to pull and tug in a feisty effort to break loose, to DO something. The orbs burst forth waves throughout the room in a deafening snap of an electric discharge, an electromagnetic surge raced through the chamber with a hair raising wave, and the lights on the suit went blank, servos stilled, and it became as still and silent as a toy with dead batteries. Well, silent aside from the faint muffled sounds of a panicked man within a metal shell.

“Here Dr. Doom shall render him useless.”

It was horrid to Loki. Not merely this helplessness, this entrapment to that damnable crystal, not even to see the metal form before her still. It was the breathy ecstatic tone the powerful warlord made as he disabled the mechanized suit disgusted her. Pure heady joy.

She turned her head away, knowing what would come next, but Loki cursed this weakness that made her no more than a mortal in these bonds as he cupped her chin and turned her head to continue watching. To be trapped to watch as five of his look alike Doom Bots marched in from shielded wall panels that slid open to grab the metal form, one at the waist and one at each limb.

“Here Dr. Doom shall capture that Iron Fool...” It galled her, rage rising as he began to sound breathless, low voice reaching a lower register and accent thickening. She didn’t care that it was swiftly streaking her green golden seider along the chain to the crystal. She didn’t care that she could FEEL him veritably brimming with an eager excitement under her.

Her nails dug and squealed again the metal of his thighs between hers as she clawed to get free, desperate to DO something as the muffled voice raised in terror and desperation in the inert suit.

“Here Dr. Doom will rend him...” Shrill cries. Agony. Metal tearing. The rustle of cloth and metal on metal as the Villain’s voice grew rough in the pleasure of his power, the thrill of destroying this icon that represented his most recent failures.

“Limb...” Loki roared without sound, voice raw, eyes wide as flesh tore. Red of blood. White of Bone. Agonized screams. “From limb...” The beast bristled in his ecstatic fantasy, making the desperately enraged deity nearly fall out of that thin drapey garment as the poor soul being tortured… executed… right in front of her screamed in a heart wrenching echoed agony.

“And I will...make him see… in his dying...moment..”

Was it him?! Was it Tony this time? No...no… it couldn’t… But what if… she had to get to him…

And as the last of the victim’s arms and legs were ripped off, “Victor Von Doom… will… make… Loki...” the metal clad sorcerer roared in a raw primal twisted ecstasy. “My Queen!”

The second that Doom jerked in euphoric tension under the goddess straddled over his lap, Loki managed to leap out of his twitching distracted metal clad hands to lunge to the limbless body dropped to the floor where muffled muted choking gasps could be heard in the too familiar helmet.

She was terrified. Was… was it him? It couldn’t be. It was a trick. Tony was too strong, too smart… but it looked like his suit. And so she struggled shaking fingers to find the helmet release latch. Green gold seidr raced along that nearly taut chain to make the crystal glow brilliantly. She gasped and nearly fell over sideways as she saw dark hair and a familiar goatee. But, no… that wasn’t her little mortal’s brown eyes staring up at her in shock, pain, and fear. That wasn’t her mortal’s lips painted in blood. Elation, relief, and rage raced through her veins, banishing the sluggishness for that moment.

The beautiful woman silently shushed the unfortunate man, as she caressed his cheek. A soft smile, an offer of secret hope was shared, a soothing mercy. Then those graceful hands jerked his head in a sickening snap of brutal kindness.

As she was lifted and carried back by the Doom Bots to her pillows, all that rage and energy drained from the god to leave her dazed once more with a dazzlingly beautiful crystal glowing brilliantly. A sated and smug Victor Von Doom sat back in his throne as he gazed down to the exhausted beautiful creature that fed his creation.

He needn’t tell her that he has no intention of letting Tony Stark find them, but if he does, it will be a delicious fantasy to hold in reality. And she will never know until the end.

~~~

“Calm down, Stark.” Steve warned as they finalized prepping in the quinjets.

“Dick Von Douche steals the most important person in my life and does a Slave Leia on her, and YOU’RE telling me to calm DOWN?!”

“You’re not going to go racing off ahead of us. She’s important to us all, but he’s apparently not as inept as we were thinking before...”

“Not with this intel.” Natasha whistled. “Nasty. That inside report, if it’s right, reveals some new surprises and a lot of pesky Doom Bots. Plus, we will never know which one is the real man. This place is armed to the teeth, so we need to focus on striking at the mentioned weak areas especially power. Then there is the Latverian force. The parameter guards especially. We would have needed a lot more manpower to breach it… with a village blended with his outer ring of defense, it makes it nearly impossible to slip in quietly, and he does not mind making our job harder by mixing civilians with his military.”

“Allow for me to handle them. Latveria is a region steeped in tradition. And superstition.” Jorge remarked before a rare sinisterly serpentine smile graced his lips. “Which is entirely to my advantage.”

“I’m glad he’s on our side.” Clint remarked with a jerk of his thumb to the pale haired fellow that reminded him just a little too much of someone he knew. He was squinting narrowly at him with a haunted look. “Haven’t we met before? At a museum?” He paused a long moment. “Stuttgart?”

The sleek fellow simply slipped his scarf off and folded it neatly with a grimace before he removed his coat to drape it smartly over his seat. “Norns, no. Never. The ‘modern’ art there is repulsive.”

“Easy, Clint.” Natasha tapped him on the shoulder as she adjusted her weapons strapped snugly. “It’s not him.”

“He said ‘Norns’ though...”

“So does Thor.”

“Speaking of the God of Thunder, where is he?”

Tony snorted as he began assembling his suit and fitting his helmet. “Hel if I know.”

Everyone stopped and stared at him as the plane began to lift with a soft hum of the engines and he was adjusting his suit.

“Tony...” Steve began to speak in a warning tone, hitting the ramp closing button as he began to have a sinking clench in his belly in a way only Tony Stark could make. Especially when the genius suddenly looks BUSY after being irate. He knew it was right when Stark grinned and flashed him a pair of fingers in a salute.

“Toodles!” And then he closed his face mask and leapt off the closing ramp.

“Ever so impetuous, that one.” Jorge sighed as he finished opening his button down shirt to reveal an almost opalescent pale chest.

Clint stared wide eyed as this elegant CREATURE began to shamelessly divest himself of clothing ever so casually. Natasha raised an eyebrow slightly. “Are you alright, Clint?”

“Yeah, Peachy. Iron Idiot aside. Why do you ask?”

As red began to patter first in one drop on his hand, then another, Clint groaned before a handkerchief was handed to him by a pale hand. He took it gratefully, and tilted his head back as he tried to stop the bleeding. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jorge mused as he slunk in a serpentine grace out of his pants.

 

~~~

Maria Hill paused as she looked to Bruce who was sitting and softly discussing the mission plan with Fury before she cleared her throat, hesitated with her finger on her earpiece. “Dr. Banner, Agent Barton has a question… two. One, how to stop a nosebleed. And two...” Her brow furrows in perplexity. “Is there a ‘homo virus’?”

Silence fell in the jet as Bruce rubbed over his eyes then dragged his hand down over his face. No one was certain, not even himself, if he was going to go green, or laugh. He just sighed as he pulled out his new fangled Stark phone and began tapping it. “I’m going to send him instructions for the former, and tell him the latter has something to do with the painted on leather pants he wears.”

Fury simply laced his fingers to rest his mouth on them to hide the twitch of his lips. “Also, explain to Barton to keep his extracurricular thoughts OUT of work hours. He can rub it out later.”

Agent Hill had professionalism in spades with how she verbatim replied for both men and closed the coms to non mission talk, though, the indignant Hawk’s squawk brought both a wince and a slight grin past her military bearing.

Fury dropped his eye to the box that sat on a cargo release hatch, a nondescript metal box, but after Thor loaded it, no one touched it. All there was to mark it was ‘To Dr. Von Dickweed from the Avengers’ stenciled on the side with the Stark logo. And a kiss mark. So, maybe not that nondescript. At this point, not even his investigative spy nature wanted to pry into that box. Well, he wanted to know, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to unwrap a package to an enemy of Stark. There was no telling what was in there, except it was too heavy to budge.

“Tell team Alpha to drop the first care package once we approach the Latverian border. We’ll wait for the mark to drop this one.” Fury announced as he sat back in his chair with a creak and sigh of leather and settled his hand over the gun nestled at his thigh. It was going to be a long night.

 

~~~

 

Gold and red streaked in a glorious massive armor suit that could easily take on the Hulk. It soared vibrant and bright against the stormy thunder rumbling skies over Latveria like a shooting star, but if that was an eye catching sight, the massive glowing white serpentine dragon that slithered from the rumbling clouds was an eye widener for the people of Latveria. It roared and swooped low, seeming ready to swallow entire houses as the massive maw opened wide.

People panicked. Civilians fled or went into hiding. The Latverian military was torn between members fleeing like the people of the land, or taking a shaky stance to defend it. But the weapons were worthless in the face of  Jörmungandr, the World Serpent. Defense towers were chewed to rubble, barracks set aflame with fiery belches, and anything that took to the air were swatted or chewed down by massive clawed hands, fanged maw, or even simply swallowed. The serpent was so long that it could take a slithering flying path around a massive portion of the outer perimeter and put the entire country to buzz. Curiously, though, the beast never chased civilians, only those with intent to battle.

And unnoticed, the two planes slipped past without an ounce of difficulty.

“Phew, I’m REALLY glad that guy’s on our side.” Clint breathed as he stared out of the window to the creature that looked like it sprung straight from a game of AD&D. Holy shit. He had a nosebleed over a dragon snake thing!

“At least he’s keeping damage to a minimum.” Natasha pointed out wryly as she checked her gear and readied to hit their second strike. She darted forward to peer to a shadow that flitted past the window, searching the sky outside the glass before she caught ahold of the sight of garish gold and red. “At least he didn’t go TOO far ahead.”

“Yeah, but, look, aren’t those the front doors down there that he’d heading to? I don’t think he’s going to TRY to take the subtle way.” Clint sighed.

“Then that makes it easier for us as the ‘subtle squad’.” Natasha smirked as she slipped her earpiece on and prepared for a landing.

“No!” Steve called out as he darted to the cockpit to stare to the sight below, looking to the gleaming metal form that was yanking the doors off. “Stark! Don’t! Abort, abort!”

 

~~~

 

Dr. Doom was delighted. He was veritably giddy with the thrill of this, the action of his fantasy. His most beautiful and splendid of traps, and it made the magic in his blood hum and burn. The serpent was a bit of a surprise, but that was fine. He could destroy the beast later. No, what was most important was what landed on his doorstep. True, he planned to delay this, to enjoy his little game that disposed of needless traitors and prisoners, but to know his victory was at hand… it was a sweet delicacy he intended to savour.

“Dear Loki.” He rumbled, even as bawdy music echoed, the loud steps and sounds of violence preluded the entrance of Iron Man. The dazed sorcerer didn’t move, merely blinking when he reached down to caress that lovely pale cheek. He began to trail those cold fingers down her throat to her shoulder, and slowly, those green eyes blinked, catching ear of that familiar sound, that music. She began to stir, to straighten.

“Shall Victor Von Doom show you how it works again?”

Immediately, those emerald eyes widen before she snapped an alarmed gaze to the doors that were opened hastily by the guard who scuttled off out of the chamber for safety. In he marched.

Another one? Surely… it couldn’t be…

“Hey, Dr. Dick Von Douche! You’ve crossed so many lines this time...”

Norns… no… that voice. The others never had the voice! Loki struggled to think of something to do without words. What could she do to stop this from happening?!

“Starting with ‘don’t touch my stuff… to hurting the one I care about….”

Loki began to rise, chains chiming eerily as that wary energy was being siphoned to fuel that cursed crystal that throbbed with an argent intensity. The metal suit clad figure was walking within with heavy clopping steps. NO!

“...and if I can’t see her in that outfit, NO ONE CAN!!!”

This made Loki pause and settle a flat look of disbelief at the armored figure that looked, for a moment, like it was startled by its own words. That was Tony, undeniably.

“He has come, that silly Iron Fool… to rescue you… but he is nothing for the brilliance of Dr. Doom.”

A soundless yelp escaped Loki as she was tugged back to sit upon that disgustingly hard lap.

“Here, he shall bring his own demise upon himself!”

The orbs were glowing brilliantly, the hum louder. Loki made frantic waving gestures to bade Iron man to leave.

“Boring speech, let’s get to the fun.” Came Tony’s showman sassy voice, and it broke Loki’s heart further.

“Yes.” Doom hummed as he bristled with utter delight. “Let us.”

And with a loud whoosh of humming power, the charge was released and rendered Iron Man inert, all sound, all lights. Dead.

“I will capture you...”

Loki turned, shaking to look to Doom, a silent… ugh… PLEAD. To beg like a peasant on the axeblock. To buy clemency for the still figure upon the floor.

Thunder raged outside as those five murderous bots closed in on their prey, and Loki raised a desperate gaze to the man that held entrapped.

“I will tear him...”

NO!!!

And as she was turned, Loki scrabbled and grabbed for something, anything, but all her fingers found, was chain.

“COME TO ME!!!” Roared a voice. A familiar voice. With links held half limp in her fingers… Loki held an almost comical look of perplexity as Iron Man LIFTED the two Doom bots that held his arms off the ground and suddenly the stone above crumbled as something plunged through the ancient ceiling with a loud thunderous BANG to land upon the floor in a spiderweb of cracks. A… box?

“What...what is this?” Doom began to balk as he pushed Loki into the seat in order to stand.

“A care package!” Claimed a shadow black Iron Man suit that dropped in from the new hold in the ceiling. And as the face plate lifted up to reveal none other than her precious prized mortal, Loki silently stared from him, to the OTHER Iron Man as she rose to stand on the throne silently.

And as thunder roared loud in the sky, her eyes widened in realization.

The box fell open to reveal Mjolnir crackling and tied with a red bow, and immediately, the red and gold armor began to fall away as and an enraged Thor surged forth to destroy the Doom Bots surrounding him. Loki wasted no time in Victor Von Doom’s shock to grab the very chain that bound her and wrapped it around his throat. Planting a bare foot into the armored fiend’s  back, she tugged on the line of her slavery as she pointed to the crystal.

Iron Man wasted no time in assaulting the enchanted obelisk, firing blast after blast with little effect. Without hesitation, Tony charged his arc reactor, the disc of brilliance and science magic illuminated with an enchanting enthralling argent power until it burst forth in a beam to strike the crystal obelisk. The stone glowed brighter, facets chiming high and loudly until it exploded in a concussive force of released magic and energy in a surge that threw even Thor off of his feet. Barely, Tony managed to catch his body around Loki to take the force of the blow and hold the chain to protect her throat.

It took a moment, leaned against a support pillar with Loki carefully shielded between stone and metal, for Tony to catch his wits. The sorceress didn’t look much better as she blinked groggy green eyes… and then stared past his shoulder. And laughed silently. And continued to laugh without a sound. A mad inaudible mirth.

“Lo? Sweetie? What is it? Is my moustache cut wrong? Did you hit your head? You’re scaring me here!”

And she could only point past his shoulder.

Tony paused… turned his head, and nearly jumped out of his skin and suit. There was Doom, dangling by his throat from the taut chain line.

“LOKI!”

Thor roared, and immediately Tony let go of the chain and the body landed with a hollow clanged THUNK on the throne in a morbid finale. The thunderer was racing forward in rabid concern, stumbling a step as he stared with dawning horror on his slip. “I mean… Loren!!!” Hefting his hammer from one hand to the other, the agitated Asgardian pointed his thumb to the door. “I’m, um, going to go check on the rest of the Team… ok?” Backing a step, then another… he pointed Tony. “Call me if… you need ...um… something...” And with a last concerned look to Loki, he strode out.

A weary sorcerer rested her dark haired head on the black metal shoulder with a look of exhausted defeat. This bothered Tony. “What, no ‘Hi Tony’... ‘I missed you, Tony’... not even ‘Kneel, pathetic mortal?’ ”

As Loki stared to Tony, she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his in a warm passionate kiss before she tapped the collar on her throat with a manicured black nail.

“Uhn… he gagged you, huh? Asshole.” Withdrawing a small tool kit, Tony worked to carefully cut the collar free with the microlaser before he picked the less intricate locks on the cuffs. And all the while, she rested her head upon Tony’s in a silent contentment of contact.

“I was terrified.”

“Coming from you? It must have been. With Mr. Metal Lips...” Tony cringed before a soft frown crinkled his nose. “Ugh, how could you look at him like that...”

“To save your life, my little Fool. It was a trap...” And here, the mischief maker narrowed her eyes as she peered to the cheeky little mortal. “I cannot believe you had been so lucky.”

“I wasn’t.” He smirked shamelessly. “It was a big trick. You like those, tricks.”

“I suppose that is why I like you, my mad little mortal.” She sighed softly before a clapping sound captured her ears. A uniformed soldier was leaning in the doorway as casual as could be. The soldier that let ‘Iron Thor’ in.

As Tony followed her gaze, he straightened, with repulsors burning a brilliant glow in his palms, however, as the fellow tipped his hat back, the roguish features looked all too familiar, especially that crooked fang baring grin.

“Fuzzy Asshole?!” Tony ebbed the power from his repulsors as he eased with a grunt.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Keep digging Watson!”

“Looks like the gay is afoot…..tall!”

Tony drew breath to reply, then shook his finger to the young man who approached as Loki rose to stand. “No Scoobie Snacks for you.”

As Loki darted forward to embrace her son, Tony rubbed the back of his metal clad neck as he felt decidedly… awkward. To give his hand a reason to be there, he gave the two a moment as he tapped his earpiece. “Steve. All’s good in the neighborhood, here. Dr. Dick is dead. I repeat, Dr. Dick is dead.”

~~~

 

Tony Stark felt like he was coming out of some nightmarish trippy Narnia as he strode out of the conquered castle with lovely Loki riding on the back of a black wolf the size of a bear, and a massive pale dragon settled near the quinjets parked nearby.

The nightmarish part, he decided, was the piles of fake Iron Man parts with rotting people pieces still in them on the downwind side of the castle. That was…. that was a LOT. Loki couldn’t even look at them, her head turned away to avoid the sight.

But, oh, look. Sunshine streamed through the dispersing storm clouds, so maybe it wasn’t entirely a morbid mess.

The first to greet them was Clint followed by Steve, both staring to the massive wolf she rode upon with varying degrees of caution, confusion, and interest.

“A… pet…?” Captain America hazarded.

“This is Fenrir.” Loki stated as she leaned down to ruffle the black fur affectionately. “Apparently, he could not stay out of the action.”

“I’ve been here since Jor called me in.” The beast rumbled in a low tone, but a low growl rumbled in his chest. “I wanted to rip that bastard’s tin heart out...” Loki rubbed behind his ears, calming the great wolf somewhat. “But even I couldn’t take this place on my own.”

“You must have been our inside informant.” Nick Fury’s voice called out as he strode with the black coat floating about him, a gun slung over his shoulder.

As Loki slid off, Tony glared at the beast who returned a smug glance back.

“He ate my armor!”

And then everyone stared at him in his sleek black stealth suit. As one, almost everyone realized there was a HELL of a lot more that happened than they initially thought.

“Didn’t you have a gold and red suit earlier?” Natasha inquired.

“Fenrir, dear, do return it.”

“Oh, alright, Papa.” The wolf growled… then he began to arch, making a horrid hollow horking sound. A sound like a dog yacking up an old bone, but on a much larger scale. Piece after slimy nasty piece of armor plopped with a clank upon the ground in front of a very much appalled Tony Stark. While, in theory, it’s a fucking amazing trick… but since it’s HIS stuff… it’s not so zesty.

“Oh, there it is.” Natasha remarked drolly with a nod.

And when Thor’s pile of armor was laying in a big slimy mess on the ground, he swallowed slightly before he walked to the quinjet with his arm around the black haired woman’s waist. “I’m gonna ask Thor to pack that back up.”

Nothing, to him, looked so nice than Bruce racing out of the aircraft with a warm soft grey blanket to wrap around Loren to guide her into the jet with a promise of a thermos of hot tea. The inventor lingered at the bottom of the ramp, though, watching with mingled affection, worry, and relief. As Clint stepped up beside the archer, he placed his hand on Tony’s metal clad shoulder.

“Cheer up, Iron Shorts. She’s tough. She’ll be ok.”

A hand settled upon Clint’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, but would you know where my pants are?” Inquired the tall pale utterly naked man who’d been a massive dragon a moment before.

Clint took one look and covered his nose with his hand and pointed to the other quinjet.

One of the fuzzy ears dipped back as the wolf shifted back to Fenrir’s more human form, but maintained the wolven ears and tail. He began to shuffle through stuff in a bag that had been tethered around his body and dressed himself in front of the Director of SHIELD without an ounce of care.

“Yeah. I was the informant. Normally don’t do stuff like that, though. But, it’s family.” He paused, then look to the man before he irreverently scratched his ass by his tail. “What’s it to ya? And what’s with that look you’re giving me?”

Fury began to pinch the bridge of his nose. No… no. He wouldn’t ask. One was bad enough. “You remind me a little too much of Stark.”

A low snort escaped. “Here I am, helping you, and you go insulting me. Sheesh. Midgardians. So ungrateful.”

For a long moment, Fury REALLY wondered… but, that wasn’t a rabbit hole he wanted to go into. No… there was just ONE thing he wanted to do. A nice, peaceful end of mission wrap up.

What he got, was neither nice, nor peaceful.

 

~~~

 

“What the fuck is HE doing here?” Clint snarled as he pointed his finger to the person already sitting in the Avengers Conference room nursing a cup of tea.

“Language Barton, but, I have to ask the same question.” Captain America managed a bit more tactfully. However, his own eyes grew narrow as they were the ONLY two in the room to look surprised. Especially how Stark went to sit beside the person, Natasha, Fury, Bruce all settled in in chairs, and then the pair of non Avengers at the battle settled to sit as well.

“That’s a good question.” Nick Fury asked as he leaned casually back in his chair to swivel slightly to look to Loki who sat resplendent in leather, male physique, and a draping of exhaustion. He gestures with a slight spreading of his fingers.

“As my dear Stark would say, ‘the gig is up’.” As the archer stiffened and the American Icon straightened, he shook his head. “Do not worry, Hawkeye and Captain, my magic is still depleted, as is the fight out of me. I am afraid Doom had weakened me.”

Several expressions danced across both of the men’s faces.

“Loren?” Clint hazarded, confusion, wonder, and dread filling his face. When the trickster nodded, he groaned and buried his face into his arms on the table. “Oh god, I’ve been wanking off to a gender bending wacko.”

The awkward silence that fell was interrupted by the inventor drumming his fingers over the table. “Don’t feel so bad, Tweetie. I do, too.” Clint aimed his middle finger towards Tony without raising his head.

“That is one of the sweetest things you have said to me, my precious little Mortal.” Loki, despite the situation, smiled warmly to Tony, ignoring as the finger flashed at the genius was then aimed in his own direction.

“All this time...” Steve began to hazard… to speak as he fought with conflicting thoughts and memories. “...you’ve been cooking, playing games, doing community service, with us? That was you?”

“Look...” Tony interjected before Loki could answer. “...Loki is Loren, Loren is Loki. And the bird. It started as a sort of roommate arrangement because I owed him for saving my life, and yeah, I know he was using me as a form of sanctuary. Hell, he wouldn’t be the first. But you know what? Something amazing happened. Magical. He began to give a shit. About me. About the city. About Earth. And, yeah, about you. Did he have to play Jenga, bake cookies, paint houses, or talk to each and every person who got impacted by his actions? No. Hell, have any of US even gone and done the same with the families of people we’ve been responsible for the deaths of?” As silence fell, the engineer settled to sit, not having realized he’d stood up.

“I have found your world enriching during my stay. In the past few months, I have found a greater happiness, than in over two thousand years of my life. I will cherish the memory of you all.”

“By the way...” Fenrir leaned forward to gesture. “Dad’s not bullshitting you...”

“Of that, I can testify.” The scholarly brother added.

Steve’s hard gaze softened as he sat back and shifted a look to Fury who looked as calm as a cat lazing in the sun.

“You sound as if you will not be with us for very long.” Natasha pointed out softly.

And, there, Loki nodded.”Yes. I will be gone within the hour.”

“Going travelling again?” Bruce inquired as he absently toyed with the glass of water between his hands. “Shouldn’t you rest longer?”

Loki shook his head slowly. “Have you noticed that someone is missing?”

And as everyone shifted a sharp look around the room, they realized there was one larger than life body not there.

“Thor.” Steve murmured in concern.

The World Serpent and the Wolf shared a knowing look.

“Father is wanted...”

“And if he’s found by Asgard, he has to return. Gramps probably called Uncle Thor to bring him back.”

“The All Dick.” Tony growled, and Fenrir raised a look of respect for the mortal.

“Anything bad I said about you, I take it back.”

“But, wait! Loki, isn’t there something you can do? That I can do?” The sorcerer reached under the table to grasp Tony’s hand.

“I barely had the magic to take my male form back, I have nothing left for much more. And I would rather not for you to try...” As the engineer drew breath and parted his lips to protest, the devilish deity placed a finger on his lips, silencing him with an ease anyone in that room would have given anything for. “What will you do? Defend me in your little tower? Defy Asgard? Will you tear Thor between his loyalties, would you bring war to your doorstep?”

“That’s quite the sacrifice you’re willing to make, Loki.” Fury stated grimly. “Some would say it’s a little too much of a martyr path for you. But, if you really are sincere, I’d say that would take a little red out of your ledger.”

“What of a trial?” Natasha inquired, leaning forward, and everyone seemed intent, thinking, considering.

“Yes. I will be tried by the Allfather before the council.” Loki bore a low frown and it was apparent by the equally dark and clouded faces of his two sons, it wasn’t anticipated to be a good thing.

“Then couldn’t your defense detail the good that you have done? Bring witnesses?” She pressed further.

“Midgardians are not allowed in Asgard. Heimdall cannot, unless allowed by Odin, open the bifrost gate for you.”

“Can’t Thor speak, then?” And here, Loki bore a bitter wry chuckle.

“Everyone thinks him a fool easily swayed by my words. His testimony would be laughed without evidence or witnesses.”

“And evidence and witnesses are left here on ‘Midgard’.” Fury finished with a dry shake of his head. “How convenient.”

“It’s not convenient, it’s fucking ridiculous! That trial’s a sham!” Tony snapped as he sat forward, reminded all too well of Senator Stern’s own hearing he put Stark through. But the engineer had been too ballsy, too clever for it to even work. That! That’s what needs to be done. Stark balls and brain.

He had to find a way… somehow.

A brilliant beam of light dropped from the heavens to land upon the landing platform, and there were five figures: Thor and a mismatched set of Aesir. The skies began to darken with gathering storms, a sign of the Thunderer’s mood.

“It seems, my time has come.” Loki states as he began to rise, before bowing cordially to the Avengers. “I thank you for your camaraderie and hospitality… as well as that splendid rescue. You have my eternal gratitude.”

“Whoah, wait. This isn’t going to be permanent, do you hear me?” Tony stated as he walked with Loki, stride slightly stiff and bounced with his agitation and energy. Reaching to the taller man beside him as they entered the lift, he turned Loki to face him. “I’m coming. I don’t give a fuck what the rules are, I’m coming for you.”

“It’s impossible. You are a Midgardian. A Mortal. A Human.”

“Nothing is impossible, Loki! Nothing! Just merely highly improbable. And, baby, I’m one of the most improbable things in the universe.”

A faint laugh escaped the somber sorcerer as he wrapped his arms around his precious mortal. “I wish that I could give you more time...”

“Oh no. Later, when I catch up to you, I’m going to give you an earful about that Extremis shit. Because that? That’s messing with stuff even I admit is dangerous.”

“Well, now, prison does not sound entirely bad if it spares me a lecture...”

The inventor huffed as he rose on his toes to press his lips to Loki.

“Oh, you know I’ll tear this universe apart to give you a piece of my mind.”

“Such a shame, I enjoy other pieces of you as well.” And the cunning bastard smiled in a serpentine fashion, rendering Tony Stark speechless despite his mouth was opened for words.

Tony reached down to his wrist, and tugged off the leather band Harley gave him that rested by the serpent bracelet and he slipped it onto the thin pale wrist. “Keep this. It’s a promise, my promise, that I’m going to find your magical ass, and I’m going to bring you home.”

“Home.” Loki tasted the word, and looked up to the small room that took them to their destination. And softly, wistfully, he smiled. “Yes. This is home.”

Like the traitors they were, the lift doors slid open, and they entered the main foyer, and as Loki gazed out of the glass windows, his shoulders sagged slightly with his deep sigh. “Wonderful. He brought Old Maid Sif and the Idiots Three.”

Tony grimaced at the tone. That sounded like eons of childhood strife. “Well, look on the bright side.” Tony stated as they exited through the doors to feel the stormy rain that drenched the unwanted guard. “At least you can give them something to REALLY make them squirm.” And without an ounce of shame, Tony raised himself on his toes as he slung his hands around Loki’s neck as he drew him into an impassioned deep kiss, shamelessly groping and grinding like the exhebitionist he was.

Loki certainly didn’t mind, and he wanted to draw out that glorious wonderful moment, to sear his little mortal’s taste, scent, and feel into his memory.

Neither one noticed the large crowd that had gathered, migrated from the council room. Even Clint and Fury, the former standing sulking and glaringly eyed  the guards and the latter an imposing straight figure that water never stayed on, but danced off of.

“Ugh, Such an Ergi display is...” Sif was cut off as something sharp and fletched flew past her cheek.

“Can it, sister!” Clint leered with a curled smirk.

“A parting kiss is a Midgardian custom.” Captain America stated as a matter of factly.

“Well, we surely need not be rude...” Fandral, for his part, was looking with mingled delight, surprise and amusement as if he’d stumbled across a sweet treat.

The mountainous man was more worried about the weather and state of his beard. “If this may take long, perhaps we might slip off for a fair drink or a morsel to dine on?”

Hogun simply shook his head, deferring to Thor’s judgment and waited patiently by, as always. The Prince, however, looked utterly, and entirely miserable, head bowed and sogged to the bone. And yet, he glanced up to the heart breaking sight of affection before he murmured lowly. “Come, Brother.”

And, for once, Loki didn’t hiss or scold him. He merely sighed as he pulled from his precious mortal with great reluctance.

Anyone who said ‘partings are such sweet sorrows’ was full of shit. It’s bitter, and salty under a veneer of pleasant hope. It’s a briar of uncertainty woven with gestures and words meant to bring comfort and promise. The assembled crew gave their waved fair wells, or in Clint’s case, ‘give them hell’, and when Loki was drawn to the gathering point, he was clapped in brutal jagged looking irons and chains, heavy bonds linked to his neck.

When the light dropped to steal him away, Tony could only stand in the fading rain with his head bowed, soaked through and through without a notice to the world.

“Tony… are you okay?” Bruce hazarded.

Silence held thick until he announced loudly and started marching towards the door. “JARVIS: Clear my lab for a new project. Bruce, I’m gonna need you, and Fury, you master of shadows, if you have an Astrophysicist in your rolodex, I could use one. Natasha, I’m gonna need a little crash culture in Norse mythology, and Steve, I’m going to need some brain fuel.”

“Yeah?” Clint called out as he tucked away his bow and crossed his arms. “What do you want me to do?”

Tony bore a smirk. “Get me a banjo.”

“Yeah.” The Director of SHIELD sighed, not believing he was taking orders from Tony Stark, but if it was leading where he was thinking, it could be a lucrative venture. “He’s fine.”

“Stark...” Steve asked, looking somewhat perplexed. “What are you planning on doing?”

Pausing at the doorway, the inventor tilted his head back to stare up to the sky, rain falling over his face. “I’m gonna knock on Odin’s door.”


End file.
